I woke up this morning and had the strangest thought.
What if all of this is in my head?
What if I have finally flipped out and created the most maniacal, evil president in the history of the world? One right up there with Caligula, Nero, Hitler, Vlad the Impaler, the Marquis de Sade? I made him the Trump card because he will trump all others in suffering and death.
And looking at the blue skies, the white clouds, the cars gently cruising by I wondered if this virus is another one of my imagination's bizarre creations?
Has my vivid dream life finally been trumped by dull every day life?
Am I sick unto death waiting for the Age of Aquarius?
Or is this the dream? The nightmare?
Is my real life what I was dreaming? Sitting in the library with Grandma and Great Aunt Lete while she opens her birthday presents of Spiderman sheets and blankets and pillows?
Somehow that feels less improbable.
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