“What If We’re Wrong” is playing in my ears as I fall asleep to the section about the infinite multiverse.
I find myself first in a rural version of our Guelph house, creating an Instagram Live with my phone. I catch a glimpse of something down the hill and head down to investigate. A woodcutter continues doing what he’s doing. I ask him light questions, and he’s understandably rude, since there’s a camera in his face.
As he dismisses me for good, he turns to the side and I see that half his face is missing, with his skull protruding but set in place.
I realize that I can bounce around easily, so I try that out for awhile. I become unreasonably comfortable in the dream, realizing I can stay here for as long as I want.
Still, I don’t want to do immoral acts in the rare case that it’s not actually a dream.
I go to my parents’ house. I’m not able to turn on the light, but when I enter the next room, the light is on and bright.
Mark is showing Mom a pair of gloves. I say they’re mine. He says they’re not. I insist. Mom says he’s only joking. I contend he isn’t. He admits he is.
Then he mentions that he owns a lovesong — a breed of dog I can’t place — named Mimi, and that he’s married to an Australian woman with no discernible accent. She appears and I ask her if we have Wikipedia in dreams. She looks at me like I’m crazy, but I really to want to see a picture of a lovesong, and Mimi is nowhere to be seen.
What If We’re Wrong?