i made my way through thick and warm blankets of 6am sleep
carrying some with me to pick up the phone
a tiny emissary of Morgan's voice told me good morning
then then my cordless phone started to sputter and crackle and blink
signalling imminent death
i convinced the emissary of Morgan's voice to wait
while i lunged into Ben's room,
grabbed his phone off the wall
and pulled the cord just outside the door
the emissary told me she was in a great valley in front of a fjord
surrounded by the mountains of the towers of pain
(which remain harmlessly beautiful when held at bay by the valley)
the voice spoke with quick excited power
Vonnegut's dancer freed froms the weights on her hands and legs and the mask on her face
and experiencing suddenly the feeling of lightness again
through the blankets, i searched for an ambassador of the dull ache and general disorientation that has recently taken up residence in my daily routines,
arriving unannounced at odd hours
"i miss you a lot"


"but i'm also still having a good time"

in a few days Morgan will set off on her kayak and take even the tiniest emissaries and ministers of her voice in tow