Wednesday, January 26, 2000

I dreamed that there was a sliding gate of glass in my room to sleep. I was frightened because it was inexplicably open.

The tiles on the wall resembled a test of colour-blindness.

I flinched when I heard skittering, noise skritchy through the street, but it was right a sachet out of plastic being puffed up in bottom of the pavement by light, breaks nighttime.