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Dream a little dream of me, II

Last night, my unconcious contended with a trifecta of interesting incidents: in the dreary darkness of St.Lin-des-Laurentides, Domaine CLC, in her lonely mobile-home on the corner of 8th Avenue, the young A-M.B. somehow contracted an AIDS, and was living as a shut-in. On the journey down the gravel road to her corner-home, I somehow became diverted through a distant clinic, where A.M. - with C.N. alongside - was in the course of waiting for a final diagnosis of cancer. It was very odd seeing people we knew filter through to offer their concern, and during the course of this flow, the still distant A-M.B. came to be C.R. - but still ever alone in a gray corner of the Domaine where I couldn't quite get to her.

Ah yes, and my cat was hit by a car and suffered three shattered legs. Somehow, after all this, I was also apparently expected to investigate a forcible abduction, and various instances of attempted murder.

Picture of a breast cancer cell

Funnily enough, the last thing I watched before going to bed was "Futurama". Before that? "The Family Guy". No fat guys or alchoholic robots for me though; no sirrrr.....

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February 2018
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