My dad, a big fat Latin American, wants me and Laura to help him slaughter the hog he brought home for Christmas. He leads us out into a hallway with a brand new white carpet and pulls the huge, strangely docile animal out from under a shelf, holding it out. After a brief little argument over what cuts of meat we'll each get, "dad" asks me to please turn the head while he cuts the hog's throat. I do so, and as "dad" pulls the knife through the hog's throat he shouts and falls back. Naturally the place is now awash in blood. He seems surprised, but I think, What did he expect? So it now falls to me to spray the stain remover on all the blood in the house, even in the attic. I spray this noxious stuff everywhere and it poisons me half to death. I go up in the attic and spray out stains which are blood, again, and look uncomfortably like the scene of the biker's accident at L St. and M St. last week, after the cops had sprayed and labelled all the evidence. Only the stains are in miniature. Only then do I realize I've stumbled into a tangled web, a web spun by three spiders with voices. These, it seems, are Henry Miller's wives (I just finished Jay Martin's biography of Miller), and they have spun an intricate system of webs and strands to complicate each others' lives. Naturally I've stumbled through and destroyed the whole thing. I hear the voice of one of his "wives" say: 'Everything you've said about him and about us is no closer to the truth than anything else anyone has said. You can't say anything true about another human being, you just can't. In order to say anything true about him at all you would need to expand until you *became* Henry yourself..." I look down at the three wives of Henry Miller, now spiders, staking out their territories, fencing one another in, repairing the damage I did. I begin to levitate, and expand, floating on my back, until I *am* Henry Miller, himself... I wake in the exact same position I was levitating in.