In the dream, a game is also being played – it’s a pre-emptive game. Rows of teens are on another bus, and in fact, in a caravan of buses, all singing some strange version of "Mary Had A Little Lamb," as a round, and I look at the lyrics appearing on my cell phone screen, and I see these complicated quatrains that bundle up on one another. The bus divides into a caravan of cars.

I will watch them smash into the wall now in front of me, every inch of the disaster I forecast, all of it unfolding as I look at them about to hit.