Ten nights ago, I dreamt that we were being chased by a lion. We were in the hills. I had a small sausage with me, like one of those Hickory Farms Summer Sausages. I started tearing off chunks when we saw the lion, tossing the pieces in the direction we were not going, hoping to confuse him. We started running down the hill. I didn’t sense the lion behind us any longer.

When we reached the bottom of the hill, there were others and a car, built like a deck of cards; it caved in on itself when we approached. There was no protection from the hungry beast. In the distance, I thought I heard growls and rustling, then I saw two gazelle. They were being hunted by the lion; the attention was lifted from us, at least for the time being.

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