Thursday, October 28, 2010

A child’s doll has died. At his request, I ask his mother for permission to conduct a funeral service in a language no one understands. This she grants. The doll is in a shoe box, beneath a fastened lid. Sunlight finds us in the street outside. A lone trumpet: inside the box, the doll begins to sing.


Weave Dreamer said...

Yours, and the previous dream post are both really intense!

What do you make of the symbolism in yours?


William Michaelian said...

Well, less than symbolism, I think more in terms of the dream as something that really happened.