A start is still a start, no matter how many pigeons are involved

And so, the merry dance begins again.  1,100 words today.  Mostly old, but some new.  But at least I like most of them.

In other news, I dreamt last night that I could remem­ber the plot of No Coun­try for Old Men, but instead I was dream­ing some kind of sur­vival­ist hor­ror with the Bar­dem char­ac­ter, and then remem­ber­ing (in the dream) that I wasn’t dream­ing the plot prop­erly).  It involved wall-carpet cov­ered rooms and assem­bling elec­tri­cal equip­ment.  But for­tu­nately I awoke before I was eaten / deaded / glas­gow kissed.  Sweet.

One comment made on “A start is still a start, no matter how many pigeons are involved”

  1. What would have hap­pened if you were eated in your dream. Would you have been like the prover­bial Irish wolfhound who dreamt he was eat­ing a bone then woke up and fell over?

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