Cormac McCarthy was kind enough to write a story about my dream last night:
Jim from Nostuoh is here. Frazier is here. Johnny Lowebow is here. His band.
Wait.
Flickerstick is here. He watches Flickerstick. Lowebow's band. Simultaneous and on video. Competing for a songwriting competition. The trees like ancient torches. Brilliant. Barren.
Wait. Shhh - do you hear that?
What is it?
I don't know.
Okay.
Okay.
I see something said the man. Lowebow has a band. Only sings now. You're not talking to me are you?
Yes I am.
Okay.
Okay.
The man finally gets a response from The Soundpony. Gotten him a gig at a big event. Cycling competition. Something like that. He shivers and coughs and then into sleep.
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god, i love mccarthy's cadence.
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