walking to a small brick school in a row of town homes.  the army rushes in wearing SWAT gear.  i take the first left turn once inside and run up the stairs.  i hide behind a partition and put a chair in front of me.  i know they’re not there for me, that they’re there to murder the children and other workers for show, but just in case i’ll stay up here.  while i’m hiding, an Ivanka-like woman comes in, puts a bag of groceries on the table and calmly starts making a sandwich with the audible slaughter still continuing below.  she tells me that her father has discovered 3 different kinds of unique fungi.  she describes them to me.  one is a tripartite and from her description i see its 3 fat ugly spikes ready to burst open in bloom.