In my dream this is a turning away that releases my face.

In my dream Bjork’s face folds as she turns to the camera and whispers “It’s time for lemons…allll of the lemons.” But so much more had just happened.

In my dream we defend a shop by explaining it’s built around fluffiness and naps. There is an enormously fat german shepherd. We’re on the floor.

In my dream the message from the room makes me snap and then I have to take it back outside of the dance lesson.

In my dream escaping the killer through a campus that has turned the attacks into demented celebrations. Running hiding leaving scaling the slipshod structures along the overpass. Biting when necessary.

In my dream, bosses.

In my dream I try to urge the driver to speed up and turn in any direction to ensure our escape, but they dawdle at the intersection making me wonder if this is a betrayal.

In my dream there is no real backstage on the show but I root through all the clutter and grab a small blank scrap of yellow paper, yelling “Want to read my workout zine?”, as I show it to the other contestants. It gets a laugh. Am I even in a dress?

In my dream she holds the fish and solemnly says “Gar”.

In my dream there are some questions about the status of a door.