Hope is a dickhead

I woke up this morning with dream fragments in my head. I dreamt I was talking to Art Boy and said I miss you and suddenly everything was fine and my hollow bones filled and my brittle sense of self became supple. When I got up I made coffee and toast and then I did it. I phoned Art Boy. Fortunately some sense entered my head and I was able to hang up before he answered. Close call. Never trust a head full of dream.

Comments

Anonymous said…
I love your writing style. So raw and evocative. Thanks for sharing it.
DS said…
Thanks for reading and extra thanks for taking the time to leave comments.