Monday, September 06, 2010

Dreaming Of Ice Age Tribulations

The dream police

They live inside my head

The dream police

They come to me in my bed

The dream police

They’re coming to arrest me

Oh no!

Cheap Trick, Dream Police

Lately around here the temperature has been pleasantly cool. At night it has been particularly cool. Along the lake at night it has been even a little cold.

A couple nights back I was walking along the lake with a woman. I had my hands in my pockets. The woman had her left arm linked through my right arm.

“My hand’s cold,” she said.

I looked down. She had a pair of gloves. They matched her coat. She was wearing the right glove and carrying the left glove in her right hand.

“Put your glove on,” I said.

“No,” she said. “It’s fashion. You’re supposed to wear the right glove and carry the left glove.”

“Says who?” I asked.

“It’s fashion!” she yelled.

“It’s just you and me,” I said. “If you put on your other glove while we’re walking I promise I won’t report you to the fashion police.”

For a moment we walked in silence.

Then the woman put on her left glove.

For another moment we walked in silence.

“Fuck,” the woman said.

“What?” I asked.

“My hand’s warm,” she said, “but now I feel ugly.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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