I'm talking with friends and playing music. They ask me about each thing i put on - where is it from, who is it? It's
Badawi. It's
Latcho Drom. It's
Challenge of the Future. It's
Aphex Twin. We're all happy. It's getting later in the night.
One friend is on the point of leaving where he hangs near the door chatting still, with his young tired son resting against his shoulder. The boy has blonde hair and a plaid shirt and his fist rubbing his eye, and he tells me i should stop the music.
Why? I ask. He tell me that his head isn't big enough to hold it all.
But- i say But- my head isn't much bigger than yours.
It is bigger, though.
But- i say, do you remember yesterday? What did you do yesterday? How big is yesterday? Bigger than music? I intend to show him that he can hold last week, tonight's dinner, an elephant, and all of his classmates in his head.
He falls asleep. Everyone leaves.
Other things occur, and i decide i should wake up and write down my dreams. Other parts of me decide i'm not allowed to wake up first, so i try to spell it out with playing cards on the seats of a train. I wonder if people will think i'm cheating if they see the letters written on the cards, and i get nervous, so i get up when someone goes by and sit on the seat - carefully, so as not to disturb my work but just hide it. When i stand again, i find that the cards have stuck to the back of my legs and it's all gone.
I wonder who that little boy was. I can still see him showing me how small his head was with his hands, as his father talked to someone else, leaning on the doorframe.