Dream Journal

A dream: The great sculptor comes to our counter to order lunch. Unfamiliar with the utensils, we struggle to place a pastrami sandwich and slice of cheesecake on his plate. He says we can put the milk into some sort of plastic container with a resealable lid, but we’ve already poured it into a glass. He drops everything, including the glass of milk, into a paper bag, folds it under his arm and walks away.