For a long time I’d been walking to the opposite “corner” of an oval to catch a bus. The walk was long, and I was often late, but the bus was going in the right direction from this location. Someone told me (or I may have noticed) that I could go to the nearest “corner” because the traffic flow on one half of the oval was oriented one way, then its orientation switched to the other direction on the other half. I could not figure out how this worked and kept trying to turn the oval into a ribbon. Perhaps my dream self was trying come up with a Möbius strip.

I was in the kitchen of a house when I heard knocking on the door. I couldn’t bring myself to answer it, although I could see shadows on the other side of the curtain. Eventually I would have to let them in. I hoped that they would believe me when I said I hadn’t heard them.

I was in a dark, empty room that resembled a holodeck from Star Trek: The Next Generation. Across the way, a plane buzzed in from my right and slammed into the back wall’s corner. A tiny man ran away down the length of the wall screaming; he may have been on fire. After he disappeared, there was silence, then a helicopter flew in from the same place and slammed into the same place. This time, the man who ran away screaming stopped just before he would have disappeared and fired a high-powered rifle at me. Stunned for a moment, I could think of only one way to escape — through the back door of the trailer. I imagined hiding in the woods, but thought that he could track me down through sound and breathing. Or did I need only go through the back door? I was paralyzed by indecision.