Over the weekend I dreamed of a couple engaged in a court battle to get the right to kill their child. She was some kind of burden to them. At first it seemed like their child was practically a vegetable and not progressing. She was very premature. They said that she only gained 1.3 pounds over the past year. At first I sort of agreed that it was their right as parents to make this difficult decision. But then I saw the child, or at first I heard her. She could speak—very well, she seemed smart. I was surprised that she could talk. She was so angry and her parents were angry for my taking any interest in her. When I looked at her, I saw she wasn’t much of a human, instead very much like an owl. I told her that she was beautiful, because she was. We talked and that upset her parents more. I remembered that their last child was an owl too and she died somehow. It occurred to me that gaining 1.3 pound in a year was quite an accomplishment for an owl. I felt strongly that she shouldn’t be killed. I remembered, when I was a child, hearing owls hooting at night. She’s not deformed or a burden, she’s an owl, you stupid fucks.