I awaken on the couch in our house on Pioneer Road (where I am napping in real life, while sick with some probable intestinal virus), but I can't wake up, my eyes are heavy and brain is thick. A small child is going through my pockets, pulling things out one by one and making a little pile on the couch cushion. I'm a little worried about what they'll find there, the worst so far is a lighter, and then later a book of matches. But I can't see to do anything about it.

Two children are dressed up in white dresses, with Ukrainian emblems on their chests. There are a lot of people milling about, getting ready for some sort of Ukrainian rally or celebration.

There is a sitting room, just past the front door, and sitting in that room I see my old friend and bandmate Karl. I'm happy to see him and I go over and say hello but I'm just groggy and incoherent and can't think of anything to say.