... a fragment of last night's dream just came to me:
sleeveless CD's scattered on the carpet. the room, instead of being bound by walls, turns into the beach. oil-rigs and tankers float on the water and then sink suddenly. CTA buses, one by one, drive out from the lake's bottom onto the beach and over the CD's. it's the CD's i regret the most. on all fours, i try to gather what's left.
