Wednesday, January 26, 2000
 
 
I dreamed that there was a sliding glass door in my bedroom. I was scared because it was inexplicably open.
 
The tiles on the wall looked like a color blindness test.
 
I flinched when I heard a skittering, skritchy sound across the street, but it was just a plastic bag being blown down the sidewalk by a slight, nighttime breeze.
 
  
     
     
©1999-2000 David Andreasen