No time again today. Brain fried, in any case. I doze. The hum of the fan stirs dreamlike images of biplanes doing lazy turns in cloudless sky. Who would have thought that blue could have such heat? The rumpled crust of mountains is emerging from darkness. I picture day as a horizontal red line swelling to engulf the space once occupied by cool stars. Started awake by a jay's screech, I look at the clock. It is out of focus, and distorted, like the shifting shape of a mirage that drowns a desert highway. I suddenly recall Joshua trees with supplicating arms stretched toward silent heaven -- I, as though struck deaf, imagine that they scream.