Serial library passage Jun 28

29 Jun

Last night I had a dream. Dad was almost dead. He was still conscious, but he could hardly get out of bed. But he got up anyway and he got his saxophone and he played a solo. I couldn’t believe he was doing it, but somehow it seemed right. It seemed like it would kill him. He was holding the notes too long. There was no way he could have that much breath left in him to do that. After he stopped playing he collapsed. He lay on his back on the floor. “There,” he said without opening his eyes.

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