We were in school. You, a teacher, of Biology for some reason. I, one of your students - don't ask, Biology was my worst subject. First day of a new term of a new year. Everything else - our situation in waking life, I mean - was the same.
I come into class, wander around chatting with people (all people I really know, mostly from prep school). Then, with my walkman on, I sit in my place while you start to lecture. I know I'm not going to understand a word you say so I don't bother to stop listening to the tape I've got on. The next thing I know you're announcing a small excursion to the fields at the back of the school. I've no idea why. For some unknown reason on the way there we pass an ATM and you stop to get cash. I walk up to say hello and you look at me, surprised that I've dared to come up in front of random pupils and members of staff. Your hand touches mine for a second and it's like a shock; I look into your eyes as they darken, and then the deputy head comes over for a word with you.
After that we can't stop looking at one another but every ten seconds the dynamics change, alternating between "We have to, it's just inevitable" and "We can't, it's just illegal".
We don't resolve anything before I wake up.
Oh, I wonder.