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From a Dream, the Beginning of a Mystery Novel

January 14, 2012

A bright, busy diner.  The aging proprietor is at the register, endlessly making change; she skims a bit from each exchange, cloaking this in strange combinations of denominations. The fat young waitress is on her cell phone, announcing that she has “the clap.” A man stumbles into the room, shouts that someone must call the police, that there’s a man passed out in the restroom who has hit his head on the sink. The speaker has a police badge at his belt and is bleeding from the head.

(On waking: O, to be David Hockney, with sky and weather and technology and grace.)


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