Dream Sequence 0: [An Acute Love of Infinity]

I have an acute love of infinity.

[Not because I choose to. Depending on the situation, I store it in the toe of a stiletto, a bank vault webbed by lasers, or in a black hole bursting from consumed universes. I do this for my neighbors who dig up my backyard at night, who search for an unlocked window or door. My wife doesn't mind. She is on a business trip in Venezuela to discuss off-shore oil wells. She is in a coma. She is nonexistent. This ring is not gold but a reminder. This is not true for everyone. The one time infinity was stolen – it was in an urn with my wife's ashes – the thief returned it the following day. He couldn't look his mistress in the eye. The underside of her breast didn't feel as soft. I paid to run his story in the paper everyday for two weeks. Still, everyone believes it will change their lives for the better.]