Finding Petronella


In my dream, I am a phoenix. I am standing in the wake of a tornado: shattered concrete, ashes, splintered beams, debris from buildings I have known, lived in, even.  A wiry gray dog extracts himself from underneath a broken door, lifts his leg to pee, and walks out of the frame.  The world is silent. At the highest point of the mass, the ground begins to vibrate.  The rubble glows a golden… Read More