I'm in the backseat of a rental car. It feels like I've just been picked up from an airport after a very long trip, somewhere towards the west. Arizona, it feels like with all of the desert and rock formations. I'm watching the reflections of the shadows slip by, repeating over and over street lamps and stop lights until we stop. When I finally look up, I'm looking at the rear view mirror and cannot see the face of my driver. He appears mostly a shadow in front of me, like a burned outline of someone with a runway sleek haircut. I just know he's wearing sunglasses, because his eyes are too terrifying for me to see here in the dream. It's for the best.

I get out of the car and reach down to grab a singular briefcase I didn't originally know was at my feet. I realize now that I'm in one of my red fur coats, a black dress, and platform boots. The car drives off when I punctuate the closing of the door, leaving me alone in the middle of a street with nothing but a singular bus stop, illuminated by a struggling overhead light.

As I'm walking over to the bus stop, I can hear the exhaust of a Greyhound pulling up behind me, then before me to pause, open up the side door. Approaching the front, I ask the driver who is clad in black-on-black, like an ashen figure wearing dark clothes and sunglasses to shield me from those horrible eyes, but I can feel them needling into me. "Where am I going?" I ask.

"To October 14th."

I pull out a letter from my coat pocket and read in messy, ink-smudged script 'October 14th'.

Stepping up onto the bus, I hand it to the driver like a ticket before turning my attention to the rest of the bus, packed with patrons. I notice my reflection in the window when a little girl says, "Don't." Don't realize you're dreaming. We can't get you there if you're dreaming.

I realize. I wake up