an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Monday, June 20, 2005

He is six today and so horrified he insisted for a panicked hour that today is June 19th, not the 20th, and wouldn't hear of happy birthdays--not yet--not while six is so leary and toothsome, and he withdrew from us and sat alone quietly in front of an infomercial and twirled a singing top and sang a little, very softly, forgetting six as much as possible, and I watched him forget and thought that's how I feel most mornings. Not six. Please not six yet.

"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"

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