This morning

The traveller wakes up in Hillsdale, dreams howling. He and his three sisters start out in four cars, he thinks it’s crazy. In his car is the old family dog, too weak now for any of the out-of-control doggy stuff she used to do. He’s just driven through town, stopping briefly for a train. He scrambled for the next open page of his notebook to write down the locomotive number. His notebook is jammed with pages from a tabloid Jeanette Lynes had given him earlier.

The dreams blow through Hillsdale from the south, carrying traffic noise, cars driving off, a condiment supply truck at the back door of some hotel. And someone’s idea of an empty paper cup a-tumble in the parking lot. The traveller feels morning in his face. He re-composes his list of things to do, the one he was working on while lying in bed, before the storm of dreams. Read Barbara Guest and that photography book. Transcribe the second half of his interview with Mr. Gentles. Transcribe the Parker street piece from yesterday. And make a note of what he'll see later on a van and trailer: Prairie Boy Windows.