![]() While she was in the hospital, a nurse mistakenly laid a new baby in her arms and said, “Here is your little boy.” Soon after, I wrote the story “Dream Children,” which combined my friend’s horrific experience with the story of a woman’s deep country life interrupted on weekends by the arrival of her husband with houseguests and city gossip. The other thing that happened during that time was that a friend had a late miscarriage for the seventh time. Once I came upon men working to build something, and one of them gave me a threatening scowl. During some of my float-downs, the house and its environs were in a more primitive state. It became clear that these night figures did not exist on my terms. Sometimes one would slowly turn around and appear to notice me, but usually not. I never knew if they were going to be friendly or unfriendly. ![]() ![]() When I was on the edge of sleep, I found I could rise from the bed and float down the stairs and through the house, encountering figures who also lived there. ![]() ![]() During the week days I was by myself and at night, I started to have a strange sort of dream experience. I rented a 200-year-old Dutch stone house, all but empty except for the necessities. In the summer of my 36th year I made a daring change in my life and moved to a farming community in the Hudson Valley. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |