In my dream he sells locks for canvas bank pouches in the back of the shop. The cigars are so dried out they’ve become flecks of leaf in the package. This, the last open store on Canal Street, doesn’t have many days left .

In my dream the  hair clips and burnt matches have been taken off the apartment’s shelves and aligned on the shag carpet below.

In my dream the silver leopard kigurumi I’m wearing is comfortable but a little too playful, I realize, as my fellow highschool students begin to arrive for classes. I know I have something all black somewhere to change into but how to do that is confusing.

In my dream L says “Hi Nay” as she hurries out of the movie theater with a light blue raincoat over her head, moving so fast that I wonder if she is trying to avoid me. Then the sound of a helicopter is so loud that we look around to see if it is actually in the theater with us.

In my dream I trot out into the middle of Lexington Avenue to hand the sandwich to my mom as she heads downtown in the car. I get back two small oddly shaped slivers. It is Sunday.

In my dream it is time to leave the house and for once all I need to get is my jacket and  notebook.

In my dream there is a brown stoneware bottle.

In my dream rows of desks are laid out in preparation for the written test. The light is dim and I pace around unworried.

In my dream I forage enough scrap wood to build a small box to carry four wine bottles. I find no water and no unspoiled food. I contemplate using the box as a seat but fear breaking it. I turn it over and over.

In my dream I am hosting a 90s tribute show with TLC. We enter the set to a mashup of “Creep” and “Le Freak (c’est chic)”.