I chat with my father in his home office as he stands in a doorway. All of a sudden, a hood covers his face and he is abducted, jolting me awake. My brain surprised me.
My younger brother buys a house and gives me his IKEA bookcase. I struggle mightily to position the bookcase in my bedroom. Fin. Aren't dreams supposed to reflect waking life?
I fall asleep pondering a world in which, instead of television programmes, people watch other people's dreams for entertainment. Before you go to sleep, you connect your brain to a global network, and anyone who is awake can tune in to your impending dream. At any time, roughly 2.3 billion dreams are available to watch.
I notice that I am wearing a watch in a photograph of my family at my brother's junior high school graduation, and realize that I have been arrested existentially since that watch broke and I stopped wearing one.