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.

In my dream the special is changing from Wednesday to Thursday, as indicated by the broken bottle on the sign in the conference hall.

In my dream we drive through the snow and need one more coffee, which brings us to Queens where her phone gets smashed forcing her to hunt for a cheap plastic replacement shell in the packed market.

In my dream the anthro rabbit stands in the water, staring. It’s dusk.

In my dream we are in the courtyard before dawn.

In my dream I find five small dogs in cages starving and dehydrated. I hook leashes on to their loose collars to begin to care for them after such long neglect. Four others didn’t make it.

In my dream I pull apart branches and panels.

In my dream I’m the sole person in the studio building late at night. It means I’m free to take a few empty test tubes from someone else’s space. Their name starts with a J and is written on a chalkboard on the wall I’m behind.