that means having transcended the two others. The third bird is your answer.’
I guess dream time is like train time. No line between night and day, yesterday and tomorrow. Waking up periodically on that trip to Vancouver, it could have been a dream. First the large blond woman from Keewatin in the powder-blue pantsuit drinking with the boys all night. Yet staying fresh as a daisy. She’d even left her children home and wasn’t worried. Often when I opened my eyes she’d be telling another joke about Indians or hunting. And once when I awoke a storm was blowing and suddenly out of the forest in a flash of lightning I saw written on a huge stone: ‘With schizophrenia you’re never alone.’ We were going through reserve country.
In the dark I thought how I’d like to capture that loneliness and write it in a novel. But it was already too late because the train was out of the forest and going through a giant field of car wrecks.
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