Dream: walking through the busy streets of a foreign city, crossing short arched stone bridges across canals. A masked and shawl-bundled woman is quickly and discreetly moving from person to person handing off bags of drugs to be distributed. I see a few of the transactions go down and before long she hands me a bag as well. It’s a gallon sized ziplock with small clear tubes of crumbling yellow powder. I stash it and hurry along. The feeling is that I’m ignored but conspicuous in a foreign place. Now to a meeting, a long conference table in the middle of a field, like a soccer pitch. The group on the other side reads like a faculty board. The meeting is being held as a formal disciplinary measure for some stance or public thing that I’ve done. The understanding is that the members of the board support me individually and privately, but cannot publicly or as an organization be seen to support what I’ve done. I understand this and have come prepared to tender my resignation - they’re relieved and all stand up to shake my hand and thank me, wish me luck, etc. I turn to walk away and see my family walking towards me, smiling. We have hugs and are headed home or to eat together. I announce or remember that my bike is locked up nearby, and that I need to retrieve it and meet them at our destination rather than leave it overnight and risk having it stolen. I head down a stone/concrete stairwell and through a sloping tunnel out of the stadium and am immediately confronted by a huge Italian guy who asks me repeatedly for a cigarette as we walk. I walk faster and faster but he’s on my shoulder and in my ear. I’m apologetic and try to direct him to other people but he won’t give up and I know he’s waiting for me to get irritated so he can resort to violence. My brother. who’s walking with me, quickly peels off into a side stairwell but I’m stuck with the guy. If only I could get outside, I might have a chance... Wake.