from Stories from a forgetting land
. . . Rosie is on the ground passed out with clout. An authoritative run has made her come undone. Seventeen minutes in the land without sun, the night-sky sidewalks of Falls Church. Seventeen minutes in the cold trotting, an infrequent gait for this great red dog. When we returned she chose to sleep, and now that it is night, there she keeps her dream of keeping to her dreaming.