"The label was red, the text white

sovay wrote about a dream she had that featured a bottle of beer:

I dreamed of reading a story printed on the label of a bottle of beer; it ended apocalyptically, with the ghosts of slaughtered whales and other, increasingly less identifiable leviathans passing in endless procession down the road to the sea. The label was red, the text white. I remember just the last half of the last line: "and watched the road burning, which was America."

I can't stop thinking about this. It makes me

(1) want...