Thanksgiving Is Ruined
March 27, 2006
Last night I dreamed that I stood in a long line at the post office.
From where we all stood in line, we could see through glass double doors that led directly into the sanctuary of a church.
The guy behind me in line gave me a nudge:
"Hey. When you get to the clerk, I dare you to ask him if the Bibles in the church are made from paper recycled from the mailings of all the people who got out of line to pray that the line would move faster."
For this dream I somehow blame Clifford Odets, whom I read before bedtime.