Advancing the Art of Oneiromancy

I'm riding the bus home from work when it drives right past the street I lived on for most of my childhood and turns down the next street. No worries, I think, I can get it to let me off here, walk down this street, cut through a yard and be home. But the driver assures me that he'll turn around at the end of the road and take me back to my street, so I stay on. When I finally get off, my boss follows me. I say goodbye and go to give her a hug, but she indicates that this would be inappropriate. So I awkwardly say goodbye again and turn around to head home. I'm on campus now, so I begin running, a full out sprint, hunched over, with my hands near the ground. I make a 90 degree turn to my left, dragging my hands across the ground to slow myself down faster and propel myself foward in my new facing. I can feel the dirt running through my fingers. I round a few more corners with the same ferocious quickness and find myself facing the dorm. It's a very open building, with s

I walk into a carpeted, nicely furnish, well lit basement, where some people are playing a game. Among them are my ex-girlfriend Aurora, and two people who I retrospectively recognize, my youngest brother and a guy I met this thanksgiving. It's a roleplaying/storytelling game. They give me an existing character and I join in. Only events unfold too fast for me to keep up, having joined in medias res , so I mostly end up observing things unfold. As we wrap up and head up the stairs, I'm told that my character contracted Ford's disease, which famously struck Henry Ford, but just as famously only affects Latinos.