We were on vacation in an unfamiliar American city. I went out on my own on some kind of errand. First I had to get cash. I went across the street to find an ATM, which in fact was a guy on the corner making change for people. I gave him two hundred-dollar bills and he gave me back the equivalent in personal checks he’d collected from people in odd sums—thirty here, fifty there. I wondered if I’d just gotten fucked. How would my bank accept these weird checks? Was I supposed to forge the endorsements? What if they bounced? I saw that one was written by my former coworker S. F. and I thought, that’s funny, she must live near here. Another had some creepy, violent messages scrawled on it. I definitely thought that one wouldn’t get cashed.

Later J. and I got on a bus. At one stop she got out to ride her bike alongside, and for a while I watched her from the window but my attention drifted and after a minute I realized I’d lost her. I got off, carrying various bags and things, and went to look for her. There were other little blond girls here and there but not her. I wondered if she’d know to go back to the apartment where we were staying. I panicked. Realizing it was a dream, I forced myself awake—back into the realm where she was safe and sound.