Tap Dance

I'm breaking pieces from a chocolate easter egg and listening to Frank Sinatra. The joints in my hands hurt. I should go to sleep, let the cells regenerate and all that. I had a dream the other night that I was in the backseat of a Buick, lying across the lap of a man named Anxious. As a car backed up, he said "wait up, Divine." You never know what's waiting for you in sleep. A tap dance with Fred Astaire?