The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued
Page 436
Nirvana
“Pier Pressure”
It was late afternoon in the dream, and the sky over Elliott Bay was the color of a worn flannel shirt; gray, soft, and vaguely resentful. Seventeen year old Mason, who’d fallen asleep listening to Bleach on his thrift-store Walkman, found himself standing on a creaking pier in Seattle, surrounded by gulls and the scent of damp wood and stale cigarettes.
He wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposed to be in algebra class, or maybe at home pretending to do homework while secretly sketching band logos in the margins of his notebook. But here he was, dream bound, and there they were: Nirvana. Not the idea of Nirvana, not the myth, but the actual trio; Kurt, Krist, and Dave, leaning against a rusted railing like they’d just wandered out of a rehearsal and were waiting for a ferry that never came.
Mason approached cautiously, half expecting them to vanish in a puff of grunge scented mystique. But they didn’t. Kurt looked up, squinting like Mason was interrupting a thought he hadn’t finished. Krist offered a half-smile. Dave drummed on the railing with two chopsticks he’d pulled from his jacket pocket.