I've dreamt strange dreams. The Beverly Hillbillies. Myself. And someone rich. A young lady. Whom I never saw. Most of the dream eludes me. There remains an odd listlessness. Tiny remnants stream away behind me as I settle deeper and deeper into consciousness.

It marked a time. This dream. A moment. Or an emotion. It seemed important at the time. But perhaps that was. Because. The novelty. Had not yet. Worn away.