A dream. A dream? Yes, yes it is. It’s a dream. You know this dream. A holdover from your nightmare-plagued youth. The most recent addition to a terrible variety that had survived the others’ extinction. The worst of them all, the one you couldn’t escape. Your punishment for figuring out how to avoid the rest. The only dream it was worse to be aware of than to suffer in thoughtlessness. The dream that gave you all the time in the world to think about what you distracted yourself with work or friends or the internet to avoid.