Dear Lillian,
The sage you burned around me must have worked. On the night after the blackout, I dreamed! It was a basilisk rising up at the entryway of the warm motel room we had together. It is the same stone basilisk that was thick and twisting beneath Jesus’s bare foot in the church graveyard at my old prep school. All the boys held me and forced me to touch it when they found out it scared me. The basilisk and the memory of the boys are such old thoughts that I almost forgot them but I can’t think of anything else now. I thought of it all day while I ran copies of customer rental agreements. At lunch I did not gas up the company Hummer the way I meant to but I sat in the break room and drew the monster from memory. I use to be a pretty good artist. Is it normal to dream like this after a cleansing? On paper, this thing looks really stupid: like a snake with feathers and a beak, but in my dream its eyes were like silver points following me. Looking down just now, I realized I don’t have my ring on. Nat will kill me. Do you have it? Is this your way of giving me an ultimatum? Because I told you I’m not ready.
Love
Gerald
SENT FROM MY BLACKBERRY.
El Golpe Avisa 