Dream

Posted on February 1, 2004 in Dreams

I’m sitting in a writing group. It’s a large group, mostly if not all men, led by a spindly, beak-nosed old man. He calls on an Air Force officer across the room who begins denouncing everyone who doesn’t support the President and the war, looking especially at me. The group breaks up. I walk over to him. “Listen here, Mister,” I say. “This group is for writers. You are to keep politics out of it!” He squares his shoulders. I move right up to his face, look him straight in the eyes. He shrinks and backs down in the wide blue-gray smoke collecting in the floor.