Chapter VII – November 1997
Dreams were vivid. In one I’m hiking up a steep trail that turns into a sheer cliff, which forces me to continue to the top. I’m petrified when I look down and see the shore and water so far removed. I want to be on land. How did I get here? I keep repeating to myself. I reach the top and find it dangerously narrow. I don’t know how to get down.
In another dream I am happily pulling our huge naked baby in a wagon. Baby is grotesquely ugly, huge deformed head, face full of pimples and a mouth full of permanent teeth. I don’t care. It’s our baby. I am hauling the baby around in a jumbo-sized Radio Flyer wagon for the world to see.”