Tuesday, February 01, 2011

The desert of my dreams

In my dream, I’m living in Madrid, New Mexico, a small town of just a few hundred people, with restrictions on the number of water permits, and a family is coming to visit me from Egypt, I wonder if that’s allowed? It’ll be four more people, how much water we need to use? Will everyone else notice? We’re in the desert, and my visitors are coming from the desert, so I think it will be okay, but then I’m worried that my visitors are members of Mubarak’s family. But no, they tell me they’re fleeing Mubarak’s family and yes, when I wake up I’m still in the desert but it’s not the desert of my dreams -- hot and sunny and dry. I mean it is the desert of my dreams, but not the desert from my dreams, thankfully -- in fact it’s freezing, 10 degrees out and when I go out on my morning walk it’s so cold that the center of my forehead feels like it’s going to freeze, every time a gust of wind comes I have to turn around, the plastic of my heart-shaped sunglasses cold but necessary against my face since it’s so bright with the snow but yes the air is fresh, so fresh that I can’t even smell the car exhaust and when I got home I’m exhausted and my feet are freezing, but still I’m glad I went out.

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