by Peter Byrne
(Swans - August 26, 2013)
She: I had this dream.
He: Really? I slept like a log.
She: It was strange.
He: So what about breakfast?
She: Because I usually don't dream at all.
He: I'll do the coffee.
She: The dream itself was strange too.
He: I don't think you're hungry.
She: It was a big empty place.
He: Get something hot into you in the morning, I always say. Hot food, that is.
She: You won't guess who was there.
He: Especially in this cold weather.
She: Imagine them together. It's preposterous.
He: Do you think it's going to rain on top of it?
She: Just think of the age difference. And anyway that bishop's dead, isn't he?
He: I don't know about you but I'm taking an umbrella.
She: She hadn't a stitch on from the waist down.
He: Toast? What kind of day will you have?
She: Oh, he was fully draped and had his thing in his hand, the what's-it with the crook.
He: Crozier or crosier. I wish I had a krapfen with this coffee. Do we have any frozen crumpets? I know the kuchen's finished. I'll bring back some oven-ready croissants next time I go downtown. A cruller I haven't had in ages. Of course it will soon be hot-cross-bun time.
She: Not that they did anything.
He: If there's nothing else I'm going to eat that cold croquette. Care for a bite?
She: I wonder if that big room wasn't a church. It was poky for a cathedral.
He: I'm going to leave early. You know what the traffic's like toward the end of the week.
She: I'm sure they weren't praying. But he was giving her an earful.
He: You never find a parking space first time round on a Friday.
She: You know, I think that's it. He was going to confession to her.
He: Are you going to wash your hair before you get dressed? Not that it looks that bad. Just a shade tired around the edges.
She: There were no stained-glass windows.
He: Maybe you should go back to bed. You must have a day's leave coming.
She: It was kind of undenominational.
He: Not that you want to cut into vacation time. What do you think about Mauritius this year?
She: Or Jewish.
He: I suppose we should think about booking soon.
She: It could have been a brothel.
He: Or don't you want sun and beach again this summer?
She: You know, of ill fame.
He: What's your feeling? Mountain air?
She: His big toe was a scream. It stuck out of his sandal like a rat's ass.
He: In any case, Christmas is out of the way. I'll put the box of tree lights in the attic tomorrow.
She: Wicked. I couldn't see his other foot.
He: I'm into the shower then. I won't be long.
She: The best part was after. There were church bells, but more like a buzzer. Then a big gate swung closed. I'd swear it was the main entrance to the zoo.
He: Well, I once dreamt I got lost in a safari park. Odd place, kind of gothic. The monkeys had beards.
She: Yes, get into the shower quick or you're going to make me late again.
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