I was in someone's house, browsing their bookshelf and cabinet of curiousities. I found an old book, called Colonial Documents. The print was very tiny and hard to read. I turned to a page entitled "Ship's Manifesto" and among the items listed was the "Stuttgart Billiard Club," and it went on to list all the members and noted that "each man brought his own set of billiard balls" and then it listed "five tables." I imagined them landing in the New World, the line of rowboats coming off the ship, a huge billiard table precariously balanced on each one.
I turned to another page titled "Township Declarations," it ran as follows:
The Council hereby declares, in order to better combat the rampant illiteracy of the townsfolk, will hereby post on every available publick wall, the ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ...
It went on and on. It listed the alphabet a few times, with variations.
I also found a wooden cigar box, and when I opened it up, there were various mouse traps, carefully arranged so there was no wasted space. They were different sizes, from rat trap all the way down to tiny enough for a newborn mouseling.
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4 comments:
If there is an interesting dream gene, I don't have it. My wife does, for sure; you appear to . . . sigh.
Looks like your brain cam e back from the pool and didn't even hold it against you!!!
You could make films straight out of your dreams. There's the script - right there - small and perfectly formed.
I promise, Chief, I'll fly you out to Hollywood for the opening of my film.
I can never read things in my dreams. Not because it's in a foreign language, or I'm illiterate, but I can never quite see the page. It's always the wrong angle, or there's something in my way, or someone distracts me, or something very pressing comes up. If I ever manage to look right at the text I wake up.
Eleven
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