Last night I dreamed Len and I were in a park in a strange country.
We crossed a high bridge over rushing water. I was afraid to look down,
but he wanted to sit at the railing, and trail our feet over the edge.
At our backs, cars swept by in three lanes, all going one way.

Suddenly he was falling. Momentarily, without my help, he regained his balance,
then began to fall again. I could not watch gravity's dirty work,
but thought instead, oh shit he'll wind up like Tony, paralyzed.

I called 911. The beeps were faint and faded as I dialed.
The emergency operator first wouldn't believe my plea, then finally said,
"Someone else has already called in this accident."
Commuters rushed by, talking into their cell phones.

I awoke, bleeding.


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