Excerpt: Half Way to DreamLand (working title)

Chapter One
Sometimes you have no idea where life will lead you. Sometimes you end up at the Sunday local ball park, waiting for the game to start in the bright morning rain. At other times you end up at a strange new church, wondering what you are doing there, of all places. Is it to watch the men in their wide ties, white shirts clean as they hope their souls show, the women in their demure length skirts and dresses, necklines high cut with no hint of their overt femininity? If not for at the church, are you at the mall, these days all but deserted, their hallowed halls hushed: devoting glass and space to merchandise?

For me, the inspiration struck while I was sleeping, safely tucked into my queen sized bed. The cats maintain their watchful stance, sleeping a watchful sleep. Snores are not for them, but sleeping with one eye open, halfway to dream land, half way to here.

Sometimes dreams are puffs of smoke, gritty and making you sneeze, even if it is just on an existential level. Other dreams are well orchestrated, with directors and set designers, gaffers and best boys, the hair dressers and make-up artists vie for the more elaborate concoctions, the most elaborate confections to throw off the mind to draw in the eye, meanings lost in the glory of a Marie Antoinette Big Puff Powder Wig. The actors may be the people you live with everyday, or they may be newly created out of your past, whole cloth, whole thought, whole being.