I had purchased a car to get down a snowy mountain road. The steering wheel slipped from my hands and I watched the car careen by itself down the icy path. Cars were shoved into ice covered ditches along the inner edge and the cliff on the outer edge was embellished with staircases populated by bundled pedestrians. At first I thought it was amusing until the potential damage the rogue car could do entered my mind.

The exercise machines at my gym had been replaced by snack machines, washing machines, and bathtubs. I searched on my phone and a laptop for another gym in the area but the usual barriers arose: numbers that couldn't be read, phones that opened like a map, buttons that made no sense.

A seaside town: weathered shacks engulfed in flower gardens. I under a shelter watching a thrilling, tumultuous sea. An old man sits peacefully in the front seat of a beige Buick floating out. The residents don't speak English and the 911 operator keeps asking stupid questions. I watch the man disappear into the churning swells. He appears calm and I never see his face.

My foot riddled with tissues. I draw one from the back of my heel  covered in a fine blue dust like fungal spores. I kept pulling until it fell out. My foot was hollow and, somehow, though the angle would have been impossible in real life, I could see all the way to the inside of my toes. Sinew stretched along the clean red walls.