In dreaming I learned last night the secrets of the moon. Today I cannot remember them, but I know that I know them somewhere, and that is enough. This morning all I could remember was this, "If I could live anywhere I would." I don't know what it means, but I'm holding onto it for later use. Meanwhile the moon is up there, even in the day, even when you cannot see it. It must be thinking something, looking down all day and night. It must have plans. Who knows?
Doe dreams awake because she cannot sleep. People wonder about her why she walks about the outside in her flannel pajamas and robe, but they never ask her and she never tells. Today she wears no shoes, wet mown grass sticking to her toes as she wanders down the block toward nowhere in particular. It's only a little cold, but she doesn't really notice feelings unless they hurt. "Love," she thinks as she walks, "would hold my hand and walk with me." Personification often plays in her thoughts, love smiles and anger rages. "Love," she thinks again, "is always looking at you when you look at her." A cat watches her passing curiously from its crouch in the gutter, but she doesn't really notice people unless they are cruel. "If I could live anywhere," she thinks, "I would." Doe comes home later to her large, empty house and walks alone to her room, failing to notice the loving looks of concern from all the people who live there with her.
When the last man on the moon died, the key to the moon was lost. Only the moon knows where it is, but it's a secret. I'm not sure how I know this, living way down here, but I do. "If I could live anywhere I would." It's a funny thought. I wonder what it means.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
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