In my dream I return to the black rental car to find the back door ripped off and on the curb. D and I struggle to press it back into place. I had been sleeping in there. Now I don’t know.

In my dream she lets me know that she too has heard about the impending storm and so we quietly joke as we sidle around the ship’s med bay, grabbing any things we think will be of use if we capsize.

In my dream his friend walks over in a crisp white shirt. He is tall, bearded and round but as I go to greet him it’s clear that he doesn’t know the way we fat bears know how to give each other hugs: one arm up and one arm down so that we get them around each other.