Nightmare
You are lying on the coffee table eating grapes from a bronze cuspidor
and watching a television comedy show when in the left corner of the
room a yeti appears, sitting on the shoulders of the Dalai Lama.
Rushing to bow before his sacred whiteness, you stumble over a
samadhi and fall through the TV screen, landing upon the stage.
Although the audience applauds (assuming you're part of the act), you
know you can't maintain the ruse much longer. Fortunately a passing
earthquake drops the curtain, separating you from certain ignominy.
Relieved, you breeze out the stage door, intending to charm a journalist
or bribe a congressman. Instead, you stumble through an alley mirror
and into a garden just in time to see Lewis Carroll commit suicide
before the corpse of a young carpenter.
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