In the wee hours of January 17, 2013, I dreamed of writing to Larry Hass.  He had requested the template from a printing company that I use (full of cut lines and bleeding, come to think of it!).  I noticed on my laptop screen that the file of Larry's request had surprisingly disappeared once I'd printed out the template.  (Behest and fruition adding up to one, not two?)  As I began to handwrite a cover letter for the printout, I noticed that the paper was unusually fibrous (papyrus?), the back being somewhat smoother than the front.  Within mid-sentence (asking "Did you request this?" since I had no evidence of a request), I noticed that I'd inexplicably switched to the back of the page.  (When front and back merge, aren't we in Möbius territory?)  This happened twice, and I crumpled up the very crisp pages with divided sentences.  On my third try, I decided to begin on the smoother side to see if my pen would stay there.  (Apparently it worked.)  As I wrote, I was aware of three mismatched clocks.  (A fullness of time?  A three-in-one mystery?)  When I set off to mail the letter, my feet ran in place like Fred Flintstone.  (Motion/stillness? Point B indistinguishable from point A? "Modern stone age"?)  After I dreamed this, as I remained asleep, I lucidly recalled the details and dream-typed this transcript to Larry three different times, as if the message were so important that I mustn't forget anything upon waking!