But on Wednesday night, and a very few will know the significance of that day, I had a dream like no other I had ever dreamed in my life.
I dreamed I saw a piece of paper, old and slightly yellowed like parchment. On it was drawn a perfect circle.
That's it. It seemed to me to be a very long dream, but as there was no story and no characters, and no movement, who can tell? It was one of those big dreams, whose import lingers well into waking consciousness. I relay it here not as an invitation for people to guess it's meaning but as a kind of record, perhaps mostly to myself.