Saturday, November 11, 2006

In my dream I learnt, by strange accident, that Kevin Spacey was the man behind the 9/11 attacks. Then I was part of an elaborate sting operation designed to catch him. I cannot quite remember what it entailed, apart from unsolicited sales calls. At some point - perhaps when he realized he had no way of escape - he kicked his pet-camel out of the window of his skyscraper penthouse. Then he followed suit. Spacey died almost instantly, but the poor creature, which had the skin of an alligator, writhed and wriggled for long minutes. I tried to help it by washing it with water. Then the water became a river, washing first the blood and soul of the beast, then its armoured skin, on its way to the ocean of consolation.


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