Morning of the second Frozen Moment reading. I dreamed the reading took place in a church. After some of the contributors had read, the thing had turned into some sort of open mic reading, and it had gone on so long, the audience was leaving. Now there was just a scatter in the pews. I hadn't read yet and Kevin Meyer, all the way from San Francisco, hadn't read yet, and there was a woman on stage talking in a long monotone with words I didn't understand.
She started walking down the side aisle, still reading, getting quieter and quieter like the fadeout of a song, and everyone started applauding, but she said, back at her seat now, "I'm not done yet!"
But she was, and she got up and put her whole hand on top of my head and said, "I want her to read next."
Up on stage, I somehow had decided to read from one of my children's books instead. The lights were in my eyes. I looked down at the [blue-purple] fingers of my hand and wondered why I couldn't see the words written there. I tried to recite from memory. I looked up and Kevin was gone.
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