Meedo falls through a forest.
I dreamed of falling off a three-passenger bicycle through a forest of trees and landing on the roof deck of a Turkish library populated by new-age chain-smoking French twenty-somethings who believe that if we jump at just the right angle onto a rain-polished marble incline we’ll land at just the right angle to slide off and bounce safely onto a mushroom field of white tents that will emerge just to break our fall.
And just when we were lining up to jump, the phone rang and woke me up. That’s what happens when belief is challenged: It is somehow saved by a random occurrence, miracle from another world, or the bell.
