nætursýn

Recent dreams:

• The great whale, after museum hours, gets to swim languorously, carefully, about the exhibit hall.

• Glass shards in my soles. I hate that. I would have thought my calluses would have protected me, horny like hooves.

What do dreams like that say? Perhaps I am a Danish mermaid.

Meanwhile, his furred ears flick about, his feet (free of glass) and his muzzle twitch, his flanks quiver. I can see the white of his upward-facing eye, but I cannot say what he sees.