...but where I start to remember …I’m in a fast food shop – like an A&W or something, and I’m with my twin, and we’re waiting in line. It takes forever and the line barely moves, and we’re feeling increasingly impatient.
We start to noisily complain, and then we are in trouble with the authorities. They are hunting for us, and my twin suggests that we use the fire stairs, as normal people wouldn’t think of doing that.
Down down down the fire stairs we go, only catching a glimpse of housekeeping staff and their cleaning cart. Down down until my twin notices that the 18th floor is shaped differently than the rest. We stop there and go through the door…
...which opens into a college classroom. This is a good place to hide, and while everyone else has textbooks and notebooks to take notes, we feel we can be disguised. The professor is starting to distribute the syllabus and talk about the class, and he is interrupted by one of the students, who wants to know if they are still going to evacuate the building because of the intruders (us). The professor says no, that the intruders were caught, and we microrelax because it means that at least if that’s the cover story, not everyone will be looking for us.
He begins the lecture, which is on the Weimar Republic, and I am only half listening. He starts to show a film, but somehow it is not a film, and we are in it. I am being forced to march with others and show a fake enthusiasm for a government that I have no enthusiasm for. But I am afraid I will be caught, so I desperately hang on to this other person in my class, hoping that we are not noticeable. (My twin is gone.)
As we march, it becomes more like a walk, and he and I are more walking arm and arm, not hanging on to each other desperately. He asks me if I want to go to the Polish restaurant. I say I didn’t even know about it. He is both surprised that I haven’t heard of it, and delighted to share it with me.
We walk into the restaurant, which is bustling. I can smell allspice, dill, cabbage (nice, not icky). While we’re waiting to be seated, I remark on how short he is compared to me. Which he is, a good foot shorter. He says it doesn’t matter to him and I say it doesn’t matter to me either, and we’re both delighted. They seat us at our table, and I open the menu.
DREAM OVER.