In my dream the hallway is cool in the twilight.

In my dream, churning.

In my dream it’s the end of the event when they tell me I’m hosting a panel discussion. People in the loft are finishing their food, starting to talk and unwilling to be wrangled into another conversation even if I could find their names and speaking order on my phone.

In my dream a lost phone leads to a swiped suitcase leads to a smirking job announcement leads to a punching contest leads to a broken wall leads to a concussion leads to a stolen black suede jacket leads to a reconciliation, all on one filthy intersection.

In my dream: blue dough, patched black canvas and someone has given me something that I now regret being without.

In my dream the argument stills itself.

In my dream: a wobbling square.

In my dream I embrace the hedgehog mascot while they stand in the dirty brown circle.

In my dream the windows reflect. They are far apart.

In my dream there is a Kool-Aid Signal, among others.

In my dream I select rolls of sweet caraway bread from the tray on the counter.