I was alive, worse luck. It must have been a dream. I look at the face peering down at me and I start to remember. I'm in the shelter, so this must be...a volunteer. She looks concerned."I'm okay, really. Thanks for asking," I reply with no real enthusiasm."Do you want to talk about it?" she asks."About what?" I reply."About the dream?" she replied."You're not really interested," I said."Have it your way, but I'm not being nice. I want to know why you cried out." I didn't cry out, did I?" Let's. Follow the one day old coffee pot, was what I said to myself as I rotated the large plastic peanut butter jar of cold coffee.In my phone voice mail I had a message from ‘?’. ‘did u spd the nght n the woods.’‘n a bush back of a barn.’ I wrote.‘th egyptian is alve?’ ‘?’‘club is not a capital offense’, me‘murder is’, ‘?’‘not convinced’, me‘Pussy’ ‘?’“Fuck you,” I whispered.I was five minutes late when I showed up for the trip to the boat ramp. I was also carrying a plastic container with three. More

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