I dreamed that my husband and I went into a porn shop in Chicago. It was a tiny store. Everything was pink. The items on the shelves had been rolled in pink paint. The phone rang. Nobody was around. "You'll have to answer that," I said.
"Hello, Pink Labia," he said.
I took a walk outside and saw train tracks leading directly into a sandy beach. I returned to the shop and said "Wow, train tracks and ocean! Just like where my grandmother lived on Brighton Beach."
"It's a lake, not ocean," the proprietor said.
Friday, January 08, 2016
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