If you don’t say anything, don’t expect me to answer.

My dream: 3 dogs chasing a deer. They don’t want to catch it.

I see this while driving by. I’m in the countryside, driving away from my associates in the city, who have turned out to be criminals.

The dream comes from the play I’ve been doing, in which we are victims of the Nazis, who search us out to destroy us, but the dream is benign, the danger easily evaded.

Even the deer is safe; the dogs are playing.

Most of my terrors have been groundless. How many years have I wasted evading them?

 

g d 4

photo by Grant Delin

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One comment

  1. Lew, you are distinctively one-of-a-kind–and I mean that as a compliment.

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