February 27, 2009

Rainy, clement morning. Dream before waking that I was trying to convince somebody that I’d had an intimate relationship with Ben Affleck. My memories of it were very vivid; I don’t know about his. To prove it, we went looking for him. The dream ended in a crowded mall, in some corner of which Affleck lived. He was repeating the directions to his place over the loudspeaker, but there was so much noise I couldn’t quite get them. I think Andie MacDowell pushed me into celebrity mode.

Long ago somebody made a quilt out of yellow and cream flower-printed cloth, with yellow tufts of yarn here and there for decoration. My mother? My mother when she was a girl? I wanted it to be recorded somewhere that I used that quilt from the time I found it in my father’s house until it finally fell to pieces this morning.