One Hundred and Thirty Eight

I shook and shook and shook and finally she awoke, screaming. “It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay” I assured her, the words falling out of my mouth like globs of yogurt. “You were fussing, crying out – you were having a bad dream.” “No!” she said. “I was swimming in the river with God. It was beautiful.” “Where was I?” I asked. “You? You were here, shaking down the walls of my utopia.”