We were many months into the zombie outbreak and it was now the middle of winter. A group of people trudged through the snow in the backyard and told us that we had been squatting in their house. “It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it?” I asked, “we’re just doing the best we can.”

Someone was getting my laundry out of the dryer and asked why there was a bunch of microplastics in my jeans. I emptied out the pockets of the pants I was wearing to find that it was stuffed with rubber bands, safety pins, and paperclips. The pair of jeans from the dryer also had a small bottle of liquor and an ashtray.

I was trying to catch a frog in the garden by slowly following it. I eventually cornered it near a flower bed and pulled it out of the dirt like a weed. Someone remarked that they never knew that compost was made from putting “raw stuff” in the dirt. “What do you mean?” I asked, unsure what else they could’ve thought compost was made from.

When I woke up all of furniture had been moved out of my room and now I could clearly see all of the hair on the floor. I went downstairs and my housemate said they had taken my desk to use in another room. I needed to get ready for class. My friend had just pulled into the driveway to let us use his car.

I was late to the Christmas party and there was still some cake left when I got there. I got myself a plate of a s’mores cake and sat in on a conversation about wedding songs. The Town Inside Me was playing while the conversation shifted to a family friend who had recently gotten pregnant.

I was in the car with my dad and we were looking for a theme park. The road signs appeared to be leading us in circles around the countryside. We eventually found ourselves driving down a heavily forested road and it became hard to tell if we were actually on the road or in the swamp next to it. We passed by a desiccated bear carcass draped across the foliage before finally getting to a clearing.

We were at a friends house and I was helping them prepare dinner. My dad asked me when we had decided to eat here, hinting that we were imposing on our host for not announcing our intention to stay for dinner beforehand. “Well we live just downstairs…” I began. “Should we go home to eat then?” I asked as a half-hearted suggestion.

I had just woken up to get ready for my morning walk before work. I heard the garage door opening as my parents had just gotten back. I pulled out a frozen crepe from the freezer to put in the microwave but it shattered as I held it.

We were expecting a guest we had invited to talk about riichi mahjong on camera. My friend asked me to call another friend while she got prepared for the interview. My mom laughed when I had to admit that I didn’t have the phone number of our mutual friend. She then asked me to call her chef for catering, who I also didn’t have the number of.

We were tasked with traveling to the four corners of a large park to collect the hidden locks. Throughout the park were roaming groups of robed cultists who would shoot at anyone who approached. However instead of being armed with guns, we would shoot at each other with bananas.