I was in a packed ampitheatre, the masses struggling to jam themselves in. Following you, trying to keep up but you disappeared into the warm darkness of 10,000 people, who became a single entity breathing, sweating, speaking in unison. The door opened, but the stairs were too steep to climb, and I walked back out into the lobby. There were others wandering, disenfranchised. I remembered them from high school.

My dad and I chatted quietly in the living room. I ran my fingers over the arm of my chair. It was covered with sticky sap. Everything in the room suddenly dripped with it.
"What the hell is this?" I asked, and he said it was for feeding the hummingbirds.

The dead children put their baptismal dresses back on, and climbed into bed with me. They were crying, and their ice skin started to melt in the blankets. I tried to shake them off, but they were stubborn.

I woke up after this, shivering.