In my dream, I am riding a train, but I do not know where it is taking me. It is a familiar dream. When I awake, I lie blinking in my bed.
The mornings are cold. I walk to the river and throw stones that I have collected. There will always be more stones. There will always be cold mornings.
When I am hungry, I am a soft animal. A snake charmed from its basket. Bring me apples and ripe pears. Bring persimmon water. Bring me cinnamon for my tea and fat purple figs.
The dream is a familiar dream. Smoke rises from distant fires. We are always trying to make something work. Something that is not working.
Anyway, the arc of life is long.
Anyway, the weather is quite fine now and it is a good day for walking.
Very truly yours,
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