My car had been stolen. I just looked out the window, and it was gone. This was late evening; it was dark outside. I didn't do anything, but I sort of flipped out a bit. This was much worse than the time it got broken into and my camera was stolen. In about a second, a cop car showed up; it was already parked by the next time I looked out the window in the process of flipping out. I ran to the door and unlocked it and opened it, hoping to talk to the cops. Instead, there were my Grandparents. My Grandparents as they were about ten years ago.

We sat down for dinner at the little yellow table with the homemade legs. I was no longer flipping out. The car and the cops weren't a concern anymore. Somehow, a full meal had miraculously appeared in my galley kitchen, some sort of goulash, and vegetables and such. I think we talked a bit, but I don't know about what. Then I woke up.

Maybe this is a sign that I should go visit my ailing Grandparents.

Hmm, I didn't notice if my car was still in it's spot this morning...