brick soup

I don’t remember much very clearly but one thing stuck in my mind, rather understandably: I was in a woodsy park, on a dirt road that curved gently left and up toward the south (it was midmorning) and some WXC guys (the Anza Pioneers I think) were having breakfast at a picnic table further up the road; at the same time I heard from someone about, or got the notion of, brick soup and how someone was eating it, I guess. It formulated itself in my mind as crushed-up red brick in hot water, with salt added. I tried some and it tasted just as you would imagine – kind of clayey and crunchy, and salty. The soup took on the color of the brick. Anyway, I kept walking toward the picnic table, and then maybe the scene shifted to a wide, flat eastward bridge toward a city.

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