A Dream Come True?

Remember that dream I told you about?  The one in which I’m shot to death in my grandparents’ house by a man dressed like Zorro (the same house in whose attic my aunt took her life several months later)?

Well, I noticed that since I fell on my face on the sharp edge of the escalator steps last week, the bruise covering my right eye has been taking on a mask-like effect.  I was trying to figure out whom or what it made me most resemble–a crocodile?  A tortoise?  The Green Hornet?  The Lone Ranger?  (When I was a kid, I thought his name was “the Long Ranger,” since his beat was the western plains.)

Or Zorro?

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