ENTRY # 93 I awoke to the sound of the dog barking. It was a hot a humid night. Normally he likes being out, but not when it begins to rain. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of a bizarre dream. I crawl on my belly like some soldier under fire over blades of words and sentences. They stand upright like blades of grass. They crunch under my weight. They smell sweet. The texture is like candy dropped on the floor – sticky and gritty altogether. If I look at an individual stalk, the light illuminates the words from the back. The words are etched into whisps of brown straw, green blades and gray reed. Like a negative on a light table. The color is intense. Its twilight. The sky is an unbelievable blue, like the requisite technicolor surreal dance number in some musical. The ground is dull, but the words glow. I make slow progress. My body is sticky, covered in powdered words and sap. I move toward a swirl of clear and blue glass. It is a tablet raised above the field. And the dog barks. Hes getting wet. And I dont know where my mind was taking me.