I dream that I stop at a stationary store. As I’m buying two pens (a fine liner and a brush pen) the owner tells me the store is going out of business. I crumple on the floor crying. This was the last stationary store in town, I sob, what am I gonna do now?! The pens cost five bucks, I’m so upset I demand to only pay three.

Instead of going home I end up at the mall to blow out some steam. I decide to take a bus to go back, I don’t have a ticket but I can always pretend I forgot it. It’s too late when I realize the bus is going the wrong way. How am I going home now? We arrive at a small rocky alley, the driver makes us all get out of the bus, we dismantle the roof and carry it to the other side. Above our heads there are tall, narrow houses made of white rock. From a balcony, my late great-aunt E. waves at me. She looks like she always did, with her white hair in a tight bun. She asks how my parents are.

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I dream that I’m taking my telemarketing job to the next level and selling door-to-door. I arrive at the house of an old man called Peter Minniti, he is apparently a great politician of yonder. His house is a small villa outside Florence, it’s late evening and he’s a bit upset about the intrusion, but his wife makes me tea. I try to sell him a phone subscription, he agrees to come by the store and asks for my number. I can’t seem to be able to type it in his phone and it’s getting late, so late, I’m sweating with anxiety. I eventually write it down on a piece of paper and leave in a hurry.

It’s so dark outside, I don’t know my way. I send my car forward on its own, then realize I was supposed to sent it north, and north is the opposite way! What can I do? Start walking and hope for the best? The old politician and his wife appear on their window and tell me they saw pictures of my nephew on Instagram, I don’t know what to say to that. A funeral procession passes by.

I walk and walk and walk and know I will never reach home, and then I realize I can just wake up and be home in a second.