I'm in Pathmark, rummaging through the freezer bins. The shelves on top are filled with miniature plants, tiny replicas of the ones I know. I start moving them around, reaching to the back, trying to find one like my German Ivy. The pots are tiny, the size of shot glasses, the leaves miniscule perfection.

Now I am sorting through the bin, I have about a dozen pens arrayed in my hands. Instead of an eraser, each on sports a miniature Barbie sort of head, painted and with long tresses. I am trying to get a pleasant variety. My favorite is the one with pink hair in spikes, the pencil is dressed in black leather and metal. There are 3 Nicole Kidman pencils for every other one.

I am going to take the plants and pencils home, I will set up the pencils in a miniature trough of sand, leaving only the heads showing. I can't wait.

The bitch comes over and tries to take Nicky out of my hand.
That one's mine,I yelp.
She tugs and I tug.
There are other ones, see?
I show her the bin, she rolls her eyes.

I find myself on a podium, explaining to a crowd of sympathetic women that the pencils are for my cousin, she lives in Israel. She has a dog named after Nicole Kidman. She has had her long, dark hair shaved off.
I hold up the pencil as proof. The nubby pink eraser is covered with uneven black prickles, stubble on my cousin's head.

My cousin Avi is not a pencil.
Her hair is long and soft.

I wake up.