About the unexpected development of certain surprising moments into quite incredible examples of magical harmony. It could have been the tripple espresso con panna that turned this past night into a short moment of maybe three quiet hours? It could have been 10 minutes, of course. I am thinking of sliced bagels here. Lost in space and time. Slicing... slicing... Just remembered that dream too. It was the small finger missing on my right hand that was a bit alarming at first. Then the middle finger of my right hand was half gone. I was very at peace with the idea that my hand would soon loose all of its fingers. It wad the right hand. I am a lefty as lefty can be. And it is the fall. When I woke up, I checked if I was still all in one piece. (Then I shaved.) My dream was created in my brain because of a one handed delivery man in the street, right here in front of the office, i think. The missing hand had been removed very cleanly. The skin had a different color where the hand used to be. The stump looked somehow beautiful, it looked as if it were waiting for spring to return, so it could sprout a new hand, more beautiful than the one before, one with seven, nine, thirty nine fingers? (Though... a one handed delivery man?) Three most spectacular letters arrived here yesterday. Little glowing gems. I am not really good at replying. I have a really horrible track record when it comes to replying to letters. Any kind of letters. I have lost many friends because of that. No bad intentions. I am really bad. maybe this time?... The main post office is just a few blocks away from here. Across the street from the main post office is a commuter diner. It has some fancy sounding name, there are golden stars qwetsched into the design. The place is supposed to look realistic, to keep lone-Gailanders off the manhattan streets. "The key is to go to Jamaica, then Babylon." (The guys at the table next to me were discussing yesterday's power outage.) "So she takes oaf her shoe, and starts pounding on the window. She keaps screamin' :'the diesels should go, the diesels should go', and so he oapens the window and says: 'look lady, there are seventeen trains ahead of me, what do you wanme to do? I can't just go like that." Man-dance stories, experts at work, and play... They were just making sure they still had that friendship flame going. The one that had started with those giant golden baseball-themed rings. Though it was important that that friendship did not go too "far". "Went through that Chelsea area the other night. Disgusting." "Yeah, I know what you're talking about. Even in the sports bars there. All men." I had some truly perverse pastrami sandwich. The pickles: Tripple sour. The coke: Purest, Highest, Fructose (and or sucrose... such-rose...) Boy, I got really cute stamps. I will now start sending real letters again. Please email me the newest address. I have lost them all. I really do not have them anymore. Not quite sure what happened. It was in the middle of the desert that I pulled out my little book. And it was blank. The names were there. Gone were all locations. The most beautiful part of that other dream began when I remembered to check the walk in closet on the right. It was in the second guest room, in the quadruplex. I came across a little blue box in the left hand pocket of the green suede jacket. In the box: a key. I went to the third floor. I saw a small cabinet near the hall closet. The key turned with a click. The orange inside was most plump and perfect one of its kind... because it was a dream, I was able to eat one half of it without even opening my lips. The other half of the orange somehow ate me. because we now levitated, the expression "flights" made perfect sense. so as half an orange, I levitated down two flights, into the laundry room, towards the dryer... just to my delighted surprise, find my truly other half. How could any color ask for more? (though orange tends to win.)