Monday, February 26, 2018


While in that short period before waking I dreamed of the Transit Office. Toward the end of a hot day, but with airconditioning and the blinds down it was very bearable. And, because of the heat outside, almost no chance of any one coming. They only do in season, and before lunch anyway.
My colleague is fast asleep, ON his desk.
He's loosened his tie slightly.
And removed his shoes.

For some reason he has not taken off his spectacles, almost as if he expects to bound up blinking alertly when the phone rings. Given that I have moved the big garbage receptacle to be exactly under his blacksocked feet where they dangle over the desk, any bounding he may do will prove "exciting".
I wonder if I should wake him with my long chicken feather.
Carefully. Delicately.

Going outside to smoke means stepping into a blast-furnace. And it is best to wait till nightfall. We close in two hours.

There are small birds in the mandoro trees outside.
I do not see them. But I hear them.
Apathetic tweets.

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