Por Willie Perdomo. These days, faithful to me dream-keeping habits, you can find me praying for something to believe in with both hands. Last night, in my dream, Flaco calls me from the lobby at the inn. Let’s go have coffee with legs, he says, I have a spell for you. The night before I told him that street corners are good workshops: one good prompt and you die. Death, he says through the receiver, I’m almost there. We ride a free bus and walk into a bar.