I took out my retainer and all my teeth came loose as well.

I was in a massive game of something like Red Rover–having to run across a parking lot and avoid being caught by zombies. I was running towards the end and a woman zombie popped up in front of me. My friend was urging me to jump–”they can’t get you that way!” like Chinese vampires, I suppose–but I didn’t want to, since I would go so much slower that way. The zombie caught hold of my jade monkey necklace and yanked. The chain snapped and it flew off my neck and the zombie was mysteriously unable to move. I ran to the end zone and nobody there would tell me anything about zombie behavior, even though I kept asking why this would happen, why they would be unable to move. I started running back the other way and Brett from work was standing talking to a friend who gestured with a big unlit torch. Tar flew off the torch and across my face. People were laughing and I reached into my mouth and started pulling huge gummy bundles of tar out of my mouth as well; the tar had coated the roof of my mouth and my teeth.

A long-legged beast–like an organic AT-AT–was in front of me. I went underneath it and looked up and saw that a fistula had been cut into its belly; a targeting reticle was over the hole, and I knew I had to go inside. Once inside (a small, dark room) I started trying to attack it with my lightsaber. It didn’t work. I realized I was supposed to shoot it with my blasters instead. I fumbled at the Xbox controller, looking for the Black key so I could switch my primary weapon. As I was looking, my father, Darth Vader (although I wasn’t Luke) appeared inside the beast. He would have cut me up with his lightsaber, but the small spaces inside the beast were hampering him. I jumped down out of the beast and ran past a pool in a series of 3; small silver drops came down and spread to cover the whole surface of the pool until it was covered in a thick, shining, opaque silvery coating, almost like mercury, but with a more golden tinge.

Everard’s Ride: a radar screen showing the deer as blips lining up into a double row with a pathway down the middle.

I walked west through campus, down the hill from Foothill. Along the way I saw a cobblestoned alleyway like my best dreams of Paris: little sidewalk cafes, trees lining the sidewalk, sunshine, laughter, musicians on the street. I walked down it and looked in at a cafe with beautiful platters of roast vegetables, salads, chicken. “Shara would love this,” Jennifer said to me. “Why, Shara helped us invent half these recipes!” said the chef happily.