Notebook (an empty house)

August 7, 2011 § Leave a comment

Buying a card for his father, he remembers that he used to tell his parents he dreamed of dolphins – serene, harmless creatures – night after night, as they asked morning after morning, when in fact he dreamed of nothing. He wonders now if this wasn’t, like the stories for which he was scolded when asked, in primary school, to write about his weekends (watching Jurassic Park when really he had done nothing), also a way of signalling the fictionality of his accounts, the bareness of his psychic life, his waking life. Though he rarely now remembers his dreams, it isn’t difficult to note the origin of the haze he swims through most days.

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