gray times

From last night, I have just a scattered recollection of some vignettes happening within the same overall setting. It was a gray winter day, sort of melty, like March. One continuing topic was Michael Jackson’s house in Hancock; it was unclear whether it was his main house or a secondary place; we kept hearing second-hand about efforts to keep it safe from looters and paparazzi. This was being discussed at one point when I was walking with a group of people south and then east downhill a turning road with an open view out to the south. At another point, I was riding in a minivan, in the middle seat, and watching a TV documentary/interview with a married couple who had met one another while trying to get the same position at maybe a government agency. But they were actually just sitting in the back seat of the minivan, being interviewed by someone out of my view. On I think the same ride, we were driving on a dirt road through the woods; we passed North Road, which was on the left, and realized we were supposed to turn off there, so we turned around and went back, overshooting once again, possibly on purpose, and then we turned around again. On a side road to the left that we passed before North Rd, I saw an extremely short man — almost just a head — in a bowler hat, walking a dog on a leash while rolling on a small wheeled platform.

At a different point, when it was nighttime and was deep fresh winter cold, I arrived home with my parents, and the stars were extremely bright, even though one of the outside lights was on.

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