Two mental patients had a pet bird named Inky. He died. They buried him 59 feet underground. One mental patient said about the other, "He's very famous. He's a computer genius." I was driving my father's 1963 navy blue Mercedes down the Old Laurens road. The floorboards were rotted out and it ran on diesel. I wasn't paying attention and had no idea I had been going 85 m.p.h. in a 35 zone. I saw the cops blinking red lights in the rear view mirror. I acted like I didn't see the cops and they evaporated into thin air. A man and his son were hitchhiking down the Old Bradenton Road and I hitched a ride with them. We ended up doing spiral loops under the Manhattan Bridge and the waves were breaking on rocks. I had a wire 13-gallon trash can helmet on my head and I took it off. The driver said, "Why'd you do that?" and I said I had a premonition that we crashed and I was going to die today. He said, "Oh." The driver, he took us to a Christmas party at a stranger's. A lady there liked me. She had a leathered face and a croaky voice and had been through the ringer. I only had one leg and just tied the empty warm-up pants leg in a knot and let it hang. There were many dishes to wash from Christmas dinner. I just turned the water on and watched it splash them. I did not scrub or use any soap to wash them. The lady had left for me: mostly pairs of cheap metal sunglasses--all broke in half right across the nosepiece. She had a drawer full of those things. She was extremely organized. 5 partitions inside the drawer ???. She had asked me to keep the fire going for her so the place would be warm when she got back. Even the kindling and middle size sticks were organized and knots in the branches downhill slanted and turned to the left. I put a knotty twisted branch in the fireplace to keep up the fire. People started knowing my name and I ran through the dark back halls of the church basement, running from them. They were at my heels but I lost them around corners. I stood there still and faded into the background like a lizard. I ran up the cement floor basement stairs, in that still and faded dark mess, 'off limits' except for the janitor. I barely got away. William could not get a wire attached in the engine of his car so the radio would not play. So he rode his bicycle. He met us there. I was astounded he got there before us. We were in the car going fast. We proceeded to hang the show.