I used to wake up and know poems. Or paintings. And I had to get them on paper, or risk losing them. But if it was something good, I knew I had a little time because it would stick with me.
On April 23rd 2011, I woke up knowing the back cover of a book.
|Some random internet dragon, not MY dragon|
"What?" Mike sounded oblivious, as usual.
"You really can't ask the world's leading physician and philosopher about his debilitating eye injury. Especially not when it has to do with dragons."
"It was just a question. It's not like he could know."
"He probably doesn't know. But now he might guess." Mike's seeming blind trust in his it'll-all-be-ok strategy was starting to grate. I tried to keep my cool and also not roll my eyes. I don't think I was being very successful at either one. "The whole world heard those rumors - that it was a dragon gone wrong that took his eye - and everyone on this continent knows he's sensitive about it."
When I woke up, I had the feeling I had already said lines one and two, and I was in the middle of line three. I woke up enough to register the look on DH's face and why he was looking at me like that, and giggled. It was ok to be interrupted by the giggle; I knew I had time.
Now, I have to go find the rest of this story.
Who am "I" and who is Mike? Are we an "us"?
What could the world's leading physician and philosopher possibly "guess"? What really happened to his eye?
What is this place? What's its history?
Ooof. November's going to be a long month.