I’m stuck in a strange family party—a reunion. It all takes place beneath a glass ceiling and I can see the sun illuminating through. There are some unfamiliar distant faces without any striking features. Everyone is dancing. I can tell it’s summer by the humid air and the short mini things people are wearing. I walk over to a buffet table. I grab a plate of food and a pretty girl passes by in a furry coat. Her friend tells me she’s peculiar like that—“she only wears shorts in the winter.” I walk over to the side to take a group photo of my family. They’re standing in full traditional Peruvian attire with mountains propped up in the background. I take the picture but the flash changes the scene letting it become a spiral of multiple colors. Someone in the room says there’s no way out of the glass cube and people start complaining. I panic and go over to a security guard sitting at the other side of the glass wall. “There’s no way out, sorry,” she tells me nonchalantly. The lady guard says to sit over by a couch, and the people inside proceed to console me. Suddenly I see a red yarn string dangling from my mouth. Has someone put a curse on me? A girl next to me starts knitting and makes a blanket out of it. It seems we’re no longer locked in, and the party turns into a flamboyant musical performance with men wearing white and black tuxedos.
I’m outside my high school waiting in a line to enter school. No sign of the morning bell. I’m with some friends possibly from my past, but none are strikingly familiar. They don’t recognize me at first, but then they realize I’m part of their circle. I’m incognito—wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that covers most of my face. I’m hiding out, leaning against the side of the wall with my hands in my pockets looking down. A police car passes by and we all stop breathing and stare at each other. The car stays in front of us—watching, spying. I can’t make out the driver. We go back to talking, and Bruce Willis is next to me, wearing a cap and a five o’clock shadow (the Die Hard version). He jokes with me and I tell him he’s a dork. Someone begins passing a tray of chocolate cookies, and a young guy says, “When are you gonna kiss me?”— “I don’t know if I like you,” I say, and we all dig in to the tray of cookies.