Just before sleep
Carla
reminded me that yesterday was the anniversary of my father's death. I
promptly dreamt that a book on biopolitics cited him, thanking him for
answering queries on the point of death. When I woke up, I started to
look for that book, then realized it had been a dream. Then realized the
whole scenario was a dream: the stroke left my father paralyzed,
without speech; there was no answering queries at that point. (Even so,
I'd really like to find the book.)
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