you’re angry that they’re beating him while you’re awake.  to qualify for the reverie of picturing a river it is necessary that you recall the correct number of infants that set sail.  the basketmaker has dedicated her life to relocation.  she leaves behind the ugliest bells.  your son has never been ill but acts like jesus surprised that he is.  the television powers down every time a stone turns into stone.  dying would mean dying before your brother whose blind wife means to live only as humbly as her dyslexia allows.  the *****.