I needed a ride home, so I tried to take a bus. I had only coins and paid with what I thought were a dollar coin and a quarter. Maybe it was more than a dollar coin because a stream of gum ball prizes fell out faster than I could retrieve them. The last was a plastic helicopter set. That’s when I realized I had many bags — too many. Was I missing any? Had I lost my purse?

I went back, hoping to find a street address and get a Lyft. I couldn’t. I looked toward the sunset — how late it was getting, and still I wasn’t on my way — and saw striated pinnacles of sedimentary rock, like in Utah or Arizona. This was Lisle, Illinois, though. Or was it Wheaton? Amazing. Old churches were sprinkled among the pinnacles, like a mix of rural and urban. Amazing. I’d have to come back if I could.

I continued to try to find an address. At one point I used the bathroom, but there were bugs on every surface, mostly ladybugs. I couldn’t tell if I still had all my bags with me, which had multiplied into at least three purses and a chair.

Before I called for a Lyft, I went back to the pinnacles to take a photo. I tried to get my phone out of one of the purses, but kept getting gum ball machine toys.

I noticed there was an overlook with a less impeded view and stepped out onto it. A voice said something like, “We’re leaving” just as I realized I was on board a boat. No matter how I screamed or carried on, the captain wouldn’t stop or turn back. I wondered if threatening to contact the Coast Guard would help. Probably not.

I thought I’d left the chair and other bags behind and wondered if they’d been stolen. I knew I wouldn’t get home until after dark. I’d be so tired. I already was.

Fitbit showed 40 minutes of REM sleep.