Some voice, sated with having known the limit of possibilities, would ask quietly,

Oh, the laughter of women! Thin and high and brittle as spun glass. Oh, the ladylike shrieks of protest from the gulch. Father Ramon was absolutely astounded and incredulous at the confessions the next week. The whole happy soul of Tortilla Flat tore itself from restraint and arose into the air, one ecstatic unit. They danced so hard that the floor gave way in one corner. The accordions played so loudly that always afterward they were windbroken, like foundered horses.

John Steinbeck

I had a dream last night, not a nightmare, that I remember a bit. Ben and I were talking about travelling to Mexico together. Then he asked me, "Do you know how you can tell where the equator is?" and I said, "no, how?" He told me there are potted red flowers all along the equator in South America, even at parts where the equator goes through the jungle. Deep in the jungle, red flowers with a Spanish names every few feet along the equator. As I recall, they look like geraniums.

At another part of my dream, I was in some sort of store, maybe a deli, and the small girl singer from Ponytail was working behind the counter. I said, "Ponytail!" to her as the other worker rang up my order. She smiled and nodded.