The monk on a yellow motorcycle.
tweet this
Again, with the dreams. I'm having such dreams, lately. A flood. Minus the ark. I think they're so vehement and vivid because I'm knuckles-down and knee-deep in rehearsals for The Complete Works of William Shakespeare [abridged]. We open next week, and I'm stressed, to be sure. But so long as I can get that stress out in my dreams, and not on the stage, perhaps, perchance, it will be all right. After all, the Bard said, There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. Heaven help me indeed, if this is part of my philosophy. Earth, I...
All they could do was "talk the fire out."
Part of my nightly ritual is calling U.L., checking in with him before I go to bed. He's a very nervous and worried man, and has a slight addiction to mayonnaise, like the rest of us in Mississippi, despite believing that it causes him great anxiety. It's gotten a little better now that he's on his "nerve pill." Which took every preacher south of God to convince him to take. This side of my family is very old, very superstitious, maybe a little Christian Scientist but registered as Southern Baptist... And it never fails that each night our phone conversation goes a little...
Advertise With Us
