I dream that I’m walking home from the beach. I stop to take a picture of the mountains on the opposite side, the sun lighting them nicely, when an explosion covers the entire frame: they’re filming a movie and the director tells me to beat it, he’s very rude and unprofessional. Not knowing what to do, I go back to the beach. The sun is setting and I try to take another photo, once again a black cloud covers everything. This time it’s a baby twister running towards me as I’m just about to cross a wooden bridge. I do so gingerly.

I finally get home, where I find out my brother has bought himself a new camera. I’m really upset because every time I want something he buys it instead. I jump on him and start punching his face. Everybody is upset, Gran is crying. I say I don’t care because he hasn’t talked to me in 6 years. He’s bleeding and refusing to look at me.