I dreamt a lot last night, but all I still remember is some dog-shit on the pavement. It was quite beautiful, though. I remember marveling at it in my dream. The pavement was dark and oily and worn down by heavy traffic. In retrospect, it was the kind of pavement one would find in New York’s China Town, for instance. The granite stones at the curb were pushed apart at one place, presumably by heavy trucks, and the asphalt of the walkway seeped into the gap. A dog shat straight into the gap. The shit was loose and smooth—the poor thing had diarrhea. The color of the shit was pale yellow with a fine touch of mustard. It complemented the coal black of the asphalt and the greenish gray of the granite. Apparently fresh, it was shiny, too. The pile looked very much like soft icecream extruded from a dispensing machine at an amusement park.