One of the books I'm working on is Unbroken, a biography about Olympic runner and WWII POW Louis Zamperini. Amazing story. My jaw hangs aghast and my mind explodes as I read about the atrocities he experienced. So you know, it lends itself well to bedtime reading, because who doesn't want to fill their subconscious with feelings of paranoia and horrifying thoughts (of things that actually happened)?
One of my "Zamp" dreams came to me last night. I was in front of my parents house, right down at the mailbox, when suddenly a white Honda Civic came barreling around the corner of the cul de sac and ran me right over. Fully conscious and in no real pain, I contorted my body upward to see who had run me over. It was an old high school boyfriend of mine, his wife, and a few other kids from high school in the backseat. There were six people total in the car. Baby Ghosts was playing on the radio. They were oblivious to me for a time, until Jeff came running up and told them to move. Then I think I died, or at least the dream faded away.
Here's a pretty good song for your weekend. Also I want to be the singer, or at least have her hair. I got my hair cut in Utah last week, and I said I wanted Debbie Harry hair. Next time I need to bring pictures. I love my cut but it's not Debbie Harry hair.
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