5 100 1 Wittenberg, M. (Martin)
6 245 10 Predatory equilibria : systematic theft and its effects on output, inequality and long run growth / by Martin Wittenberg.
7 260 Johannesburg : Econometric Research Southern Africa, 2000.

Last night this morning vivid extrasensory dreams. I have been having these every morning lately. Wake up at the alarm fall back into your dream over and over. All kinds of kinds of dreams.

Last night this morning it was about our friends Tim and Carrie, specifically Carrie but also Tim. We all lived in a tall apartment, with these tall walls and I'm not sure how exactly this happened. The kind of tall walls you think are hospital green. That tone. There was something involving staying up late, and Tim was gone off somewhere in the car for the night. Not his actual car since for one thing he has no car just now. A big SUV, a grey one I think. But he was off away. And John and Carrie and I were in the apt. There may have been other people but they all gradually left, and in the very late three area Carrie went off to her room. The whole building was tall like that, and grey, with tall grey hallways and vague industrial undertones. We were in a city. It was a very tall building and you went up the narrow hallway and in the door.

It was some specific time like 3:47. And Carrie went back to her room, and even later later that night John found her. Her throat had been slit and her body dismembered. It was so late and there were clouds over everyone. No one knew how what had happened. It was still all grey and green.

In the morning I was walking out with Tim, who had come home, and we were talking and going down Main Street in the adult district as those who know Ann Arbor will recognize. The stainless steel district that reminds you of high quality kitchen equipment and has several many-storied banks. We could not understand what had happened although I had seen her myself. In fact she was out walking with us and not quite aware of things herself. All half talking in a general what happened direction. We got to one of the big banks, in the wall of which there was an ATM Tim needed. It was grey outside there as well. Then I got to the ATM and requested my information. It told me the real story in a newspaper article on its little screen, but didn't really solve anything. I said as much out loud, and when I turned, Carrie had disappeared. She understood it, then. Tim and I were even more dislocated, or differently located. We walked further up the street.

Carrie wears soft makeup and sweaters in colors like pink against our blue-grey drab. Tim wears sharply ironed shirts, and sells wine to fancy restaurants. They are classy hosts. Their living room is done in purple and orange, with hand-done beaded tassels.

I woke up in the dark and told John. He petted my hair and said ssh it is all ok, and we went back to sleep until the next alarm.