After a stress dream, I hallucinated a large, hairy spider on the wall.

More and more lately, I wake up to a hairy spider.

I close my eyes and a weight presses on my chest.

I drink Prosecco from a paper cup.


From the futon, my view is a stand of pine trees and the luminous lake.

My friends sleep in other rooms.

We pooled our money for a weekend cabin.

We breathe together.

On our trip, we ask for what we need without fear;

we refill each other's cups—

I didn't know I could choose any of this.