It was night, and I turned a corner in a room like the café at work and ran hard into a man who was at a counter.

Instead of saying anything, I lightly touched one of the fruiting stalks arranged in a nearby vase, and several of them wilted. Then I noticed that my glasses looked odd; there were plastic flaps that made no sense and extra temples. I went back to the counter area and found the frames, which confused me because what had the flaps and temples been attached to? I noticed then that the glass (not plastic) lenses had broken into impossibly thick pieces. More and more confused, I didn’t know how to explain myself to the man who was still at the counter. I could assume only that I had broken the glasses and somehow torn off the frames when I ran into him.

Curious about its reaction, I touched the stalks again, and more of them wilted. I had a sense that they might recover but couldn’t understand why a touch bothered them so. Observing me, the man said to the stalks, “It began on your wedding night, when Opal wouldn’t leave you alone.”

I saw nurses preparing a lavish room or rooms for a patient. One of them, perhaps me, was taking photos and video of the preparations. Some of the nurses were unclothed, and while the film and video never captured this directly it would show in mirrors when the nurse passed in front of them. I was at a loss as to what to do to prevent this, but had to keep taking the photos and video.