I talk to you in my dreams. You’re here with me. We sit down in two armchairs across from each other. I can hear you. But you have to go. So I’ll write you a note on top of these sausages in this takeout box. But ink doesn’t work on the sausages. You’ve already left and I’ll find you again in another scene. It’s so hard to hear because the trumpets are blaring outside in that large open field. I forgot to feed the cats. I better get home. I’m going to run through this forest until I get there. Only, it’s not a forest, it’s actually a sewer system. I’m underground and there are rats everywhere. My feet are filthy. I see a ladder, if I hold onto it, it’ll turn into a hot air ballon. I’m flying now, and I’ll get home in 20 minutes if this balloon goes where I think it’s going. I’m going to let go of the balloon now, so I can fall to the floor of my bedroom. I’ll close my eyes tight so I don’t feel the drop. My neighbor sits with me on the bed and taps my forehead, doing acupressure on it. He says he just got married and there will be a party soon. His wife is from Ireland, and I’ve never met her before. I’m so tired and I know the kids and I will be going to the beach soon. Just five more minutes of sleep. There are 20 people in my apartment and the bride doesn’t want to talk about getting married. I want to sleep, but they won’t let me and the bride isn’t wearing any pants. I run out of my house and I’m stuck in a map of Queens. I can’t get out of it. I know the beach is close though. If I follow the trail I’ll get there.