We sat on a bench by the wall that went around a shallow pool. I was telling the person next to me how some institution was harboring alien life forms and they asked me how I knew. I recounted seeing the depressurization and defrosting chambers in the labs used to safely retrieve specimen from the deep waters. The aliens themselves mostly resembled bulbous cephalopods.

I was working on my laptop in the middle of the library. I couldn’t tell if I had Photoshop or Steam open from the color scheme of my screen. Someone in front of the table kept walking back and forth. They eventually approached me to confess that they’ve been interested in me for a while. Later they hurriedly walked away.

I walked down to the docks as our land to the west was being occupied through war. I went in the opposite direction along the lake shore and noticed that all of the seating had been redone, with some part using materials that we had recovered from our lost territory. After going further, I saw the words “That’s racist” in foam boards floating on the water.

I was talking to a friend in a coffee shop and we were discussing various features of a Native American language. At some point in time, a woman sitting nearby got rather offended when she mistakenly heard our discussion of a language not having feature x as a suggestion that it wasn’t a real language. She promptly got up and walked out of the cafe before we knew what was happening. I quickly opened the door after she left to shout an apology across the parking lot for any misunderstanding.

My brother asked me and my dad if we went to see the game that he had brought us an extra ticket for. We told him that we didn’t but it turned out that neither did he. My mother insisted that at one point she had slipped alcohol into my cup during dinner once but I denied it for I never recollected tasting the presence of any.

The two of us were laying down in adjacent dental chairs while a third was recounting a story about how to fake relations with other people. They mentioned a specific book in their narrative which just happened to be the same book that was on the small desk beside us. It had a red cover with gold lettering.

I was in a virtual reality simulation and there was an animation demo across the water from me. It looked like something made in Source Filmmaker and I greatly appreciated the fluidity of motion that went into it.

We were talking about the absurdity of our deadlines as they were set by a larger company that we worked for. They were essentially artificial deadlines and were only there to give the illusion of “progress”.

We walked into a Chinese restaurant that we had previously stopped by and reserved a spot for. When we sat down at the table, we were handed a tablet to communicate. Instead of using words and sounds, we used “concepts” and images to get our ideas across. Someone said it was too bad that we didn’t know what time all the other customers in the restaurant sat down.