after me

Still wearing a towel long after I've dried.  Dreamed about walking in a cemetery on the wind-blasted yellow prairie and meeting a priest, who told me about his beliefs and why I should believe them while I ignored him as politely as I could, which is really how I react to most people who tell me their beliefs, unless they are one of the Flowers, as C. once said (or: "Angels").  

Then (in the dream) I was late to my dance competition for which I had no recollection of the choreography.  I was racing down my street in Beatrice to get there and passed the Spady's house, where a herd of cop cars were blazin' cherries on the front lawn, and policemen were everywhere with their guns drawn, shooting seemingly at random.  I saw a man on a bike approach one officer at high speed and be shot in the back by another, and then I saw a little hiccuping echo of that same image, deja vu.  

There was more to it, the dance competition green room where I watched my partner's half and tried to move in tandem, positioning my legs just so on that spinning leap, quick footwork, pointed toes.  I varied between supreme confidence in my ability to bullshit the dance and panic that I am not an actual professional dancer in any sense.