I was alone in a new apartment, sorting out some things before S. arrived. The Super Bowl was on, between the Cowboys and the Broncos. I suddenly felt very tired, and with some regret fell asleep at the beginning of the game. When I awoke it was late in the fourth and the Cowboys were up 75-10. Then I was at a large outdoor party where the band was playing, at the sprawling compound that belonged to our friends. We created an enormous pile of dirty dishes and I felt compelled to help with the washing. I grew aware that I’d played with another band, with a friend on drums, at the party earlier. What song had we played? I tried to remember. It was “Green Eyed Lady,” echoing a dream one of my bandmates actually had, long ago. Word came that there’d been an accident out on the road. A woman who’d just arrived had witnessed it and was shaken. Someone died, someone she knew.