So there's this girl who likes me, who's about 4-6 years younger than me. She's a nice girl, kind of cute. Her name is Normal, and she can walk, but she can't walk very far and she can't walk without help, so most of the time she uses a wheelchair. I want to be her friend but I don't want to go out with her. A woman I knew in college and the transgendered woman she's seeing are writing a book on flying techniques, and a guy watching them read other material on it is threatening to turn them in for copyright violation. They're thinking about using a similar format to that set out in one of their references. They have mechanized broomsticks, metal contraptions composed of a small box, about the size of a shoebox, and a length of the kind of pole used in chainlink fence, all made out of dull steel. Turning in place on one of them I think I am going to fall over but their balance is surprisingly good. The two women keep telling me that they're surprised at who I'm interested in, thinking that I'm interested in Normal, rather than the other way around. Normal wants to get chicken while I'm doing something. It makes her sad that I'm a vegetarian. I run into her outside later, she had a nap and wants to go to a restaurant now. I think she thought I was going to go with her to get chicken. She can't bring her wheelchair into the restaurant, since it's on one of the balconies on the cliff face. She leans on me. We go through the bedroom of a girl I knew in grade school. Normal and the girl's cat wake her up by climbing on the bed. The women from college start asking me about Normal, saying that they don't think she's my type and isn't it mean to call her Normal since she's handicapped? I don't know whether Normal has another name or not. I shrug and point out that Normal is very normal, and that not walking is normal for her.

I'm carrying something from the freeway, which is 30 feet above the ground, across a rope bridge to the balconies we were on, which are 50 feet above the ground. One of the college women has gotten a bunch of odd sized printer trays. I'm by the side of the freeway. I climb over the concrete barricade, down onto the vine platform, and over to the bridge. A train is going past, pulling the bridge anchor off to one side. I'm on the top of the anchor, getting ready to go out onto the bridge. I think for a moment that I shouldn't go until the anchor has returned to the center, so I can avoid being catapulted off into the sky, but just as the anchor is at its most extreme point, I leap out onto the bridge and start climbing as the ropes go slack. I make it out almost halfway so that I'm swinging somewhere in the middle. A concert is going on in the place between the freeway and the cliffs. I recognize the music as two different things simultaneously, music that makes me feel like I'm flying but when I wake up, it's gone. There are two other people on the bridge with me now, two white guys, one blond teenager and a guy a little older than me with dark hair. We swing through the air, passing through the lake at the nadir, then back up three times, not losing altitude. The music is audible underwater. One of them grabs the edge of the billboard and we all climb off there. We tie the bridge to the billboard and sit up there on a wide ledge. The guys smoke tare out of a wooden pipe. It's incredibly smoky. They offer it to me but I decline, saying I don't like to smoke things. It's high summer, and I feel great, like I've had a long day outside and soon I will have dinner. I've got a layer of dirt on my exposed skin, and I'm wearing clothes I had in high school.

I wake up shaking.