Dreaming of David Bowie

David Bowie came to me in a dream last night. We were in the rooftop courtyard of a tall residential building in a big city. It was sunset, and he was sitting at a desk, designing something. I looked down and found old silver dollars in the cement. I offered them to him, thinking they might help to inform his design.

“Very good,” he said, taking them.

“So let me ask you,” I said after what I perceived to be a few minutes, “I’m looking for a job, and I’m also a writer."

“They say that’s a very difficult profession to get into.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” I asked.

“That’s a very good question.” he said, “Who the fuck are they?”

photo by Marcus Klinko