Among other more hazy dreams (something about orson scott card? something about a woman with a long and unpronounceable name in the forest?), I dreamed that I deleted a long write-up in the dream log by jessicapierce, and then was unable to go back and find the text, and when I tried to apologize, she disappeared.

"..We remember, strangely, to ourselves in the mirror: "I used to dream of Paris and wild horses..."

(Secretary Morning, by a poet whose name sadly escapes me. Here, the secretaries have just woken up from another night of mundane, mundane dreams of filing and phones.)