Driving home last night - you know we are coming out
of a
new moon - and looked at my
rear view mirror.
It was
black.
Bakelite black. I touched it
an checked whether the
glare filter was on. It wasn't.
It was just that there were
absolutely no lights behind
me - no streetlights, no
city glow, no other drivers.
It was spooky. I related it to one of my co-workers
and he said, "Have you ever seen the film
The Thirteenth
Floor?"
Tonight going dancing. I have my costume in my car,
but don't have the nerve to wear it at work. Only a
handful of people are in costume, and none are very
elaborate. One woman is dressed as a basket of laundry:
she cut a hole in the bottom of a laundry basket and
put her legs through, wore old clothes, rubbed some
burnt cork on her face, and threw some old clothes and
an empty detergent bottle into the basket. Problem
is, your first take is she's going to do laundry.
Then after a moment, oh, it's a costume.