from the dream

sitting on a fancifully constructed black leather sofa in some kind of outdoor bar (the thing was vaguely bat-like with red gemstones set into grey stone cabochons pulled down into the tucks) with a floor of crushed granite and rows of old rosemary bushes an old man was telling me that heinrich von kleist had been the last of the actual werewolves, and that the 18th century had come after 3 others before it for the poor man who did everything he could "to still the tongue of the beast in the world".. finally the man's son came dressed in green alpine wear and took to old man off.. while i was left alone and thinking of the repairs that needed to be made to the electrical system (in general)...