Somebody who is not me posted this while I dreamed of a cliff that tore away from its mountain and went to Stop & Shop on the bus.
This morning I was contacted on behalf of the prince of a small island whose mother died of a brain worm the length of the island’s circumference. It has become part of the island’s myth that the brain worm was a physical manifestation of her worries about the island–that her mind was constantly going over and over the state and affairs of the island, worrying her to death. And so the worm has been stretched around the island, protecting it. Until this morning, when that image surfaced, upsetting “the beleaguered prince”, as his spokesperson described him.
So, sweet prince, I am sorry. It seems my dream of a cliff became an agent in your frustration. Tonight I will not dream; I will vigilantly guard my identity as you do your island.