The Dreams

Dream 93

On top of a nearby home I spied furniture, wrapped and decorated. Then I remembered that I’d heard the house’s owner had turned the place into a cultural institute for which he charged no admission: he was content to live on the roof.

Pleased by this, I admired him for it, and was invited to attend some of his lessons. I found the place crammed with humanity. The man said today’s lesson would be about the bull that bore the world on his horn. His speech struck me as odd, and a derisory laugh escaped me. Faces glazed with anger turned toward me.

The man himself fixed me with a glowering stare, silently pointing to the door.