The Long Dream
Did you have those forty years?
The Long Dream
Did you have those forty years?
You fall asleep at eleven and wake at seven. In between you lived forty years: a different name, a house by water, children whose faces you'd know anywhere, a slow illness, a funeral that was yours. You wake up crying about a daughter who doesn't exist. By lunchtime you can only remember four of the forty years.
Did you have those forty years?
The classics and some new ones. A scenario, the question it forces, and the follow-ups that make it bite.