Don’t Renounce Me

I have to laugh: the preface sounds almost as if it means something. Ghostly storytellers and night-blue mirrors aside, it begins with a question which, for me, aptly defines the dream experience, and that of sleep and wakefulness as well. Which is which, though, remains agreeably subject to question. Of course this is familiar ground; I speak of it often; I might even say that most, if not all, of my writing thrives, and perhaps also suffers, under its influence.

Lost in San Francisco is a dream that transpired early in the morning on the day after Christmas in 2009. Don’t ask me what I think it means. Your guess is as good as mine. But the image of the boy saying Don’t renounce me I find interesting indeed. Vivid. Strange. Reading it now is a dream of its own.

[ 2008 ]