I dreamed of Jake’s excursion outside
of the school, on a cold, late Autumn afternoon, trying to figure out what was
going on in that school, and realizing that, in some way, at least on some
level, I myself focused and intensified the wrongness. I also dreamed that the sunset looked bright
red, and yet seagulls had come inshore, the way they do only before a storm,
even though those two things shouldn’t happen together. The rest I wrote.