I Dream of Justin…Trudeau, that is.

I’m at a wilderness resort. The resort is divided between the rich and the not-rich. In between the two sections are water pools. The water is turquoise, murky and steamy. People at the wilderness resort have to be instructed how to float in the pools. The pools contain deep parts and we don’t know how to navigate those parts, nor do we know what creatures might be lurking in the depths, so we all float at the shallow edges. Then there’s a discussion, women seated at a long rectangular table. We’re talking about rare animals and someone mentions that rare animal shit would be good fertilizer for the garden. I pipe up, saying, “Cougar shit would be pretty rare.” Justin Trudeau is among us and he chimes in with, “Bear shit is rare.” And I don’t think bear shit is all that rare but I don’t contradict him.

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