In my dream it would be easy enough to leave the building as long as I could get past the singular shaft with its swinging metal door and greased, curved wall. Then I’m on the carpeted floor again and holding the little old dog.

In my dream I see C in the middle of the crosswalk in the street festival and when I walk up and stand next to him I see the painted look cross his face. It’s been too long and I should have done it before. We chat and he turns away. His cap is white.