Dream last night. I walked home, down Monroe Street in Alexandria, Indiana. A man named Mr. Jones was with me. His son, Bud, worked in an office tower in downtown NYC. We walked three blocks to the stretch of Monroe Street on which I lived. I turned, pointed to the skyline behind us, and said, “Look. What do you see there?” “Bud’s tower.” “Yes. And right next to it?” “St. Patrick’s.” “How about that over there?” I asked, pointing to building, orange metal and looking somewhat like the Sydney Opera House. “Hope.” “Yes,” I said, “Imagine. All these years I’ve been living in Alexandria and never realized it was so close to NYC. I don’t have to go away from home to be there.”