My dreams are frighteningly vivid. And full of textures and colors I can’t get out of my head even days later. Felt patches on dogs under hair to hide the places they scratch. Linen wallets cheaply made that I have to steal because they feel so good to rub my fingers across and to flop open with their own flimsy weight. Finding laura and jb in a house full of afghan blankets brightly colored and them cooking a warm meal of boiled water for me before I go back out on the run. Yellows and greens. And faded reds. And family trips we never took.