Last night, I dreamed I was on a rooftop taking photos with two of my friends. Does it matter that I watched my white arm loop through Marcus' thin, dark arm? My hand hold Corey's, black and soft? It didn't then, these are the normal details of our lives. I should be wearing sunscreen. We saw, suddenly, the tide coming in quickly, and before we could comprehend, a giant wave raced to our city (Brooklyn? Jersey? Something of the two?). Foaming with white fury and a blue haze. We wanted to run. This was unexpected. Or was it - why didn't we know this was going to happen? Had we ignored the earthquake? Should we run? We jump to another roof, we run, we jump again. I realize that the wave will have crashed before us, I watch it crash, I see people swallowed. I think, we need to conserve energy to swim. I lose them in the wave. I end up on a bridge, Brooklyn maybe. I am heartbroken. Sobbing, mourning. I wake up, heart in throat. It is 3am. I remind myself where I am - Queens, bed, home. I walk through the science in my head - an earthquake would have been recorded, somewhere, there would be evacuation sounds, it would be organized chaos. These things are extremely rare here because the tectonic plates are more settled here. False security. No, breathe. 3:15am. There are garbage trucks outside. Recyclables. The men are laughing. It's 3am, I want to remind them. Some of us have our windows open. Some of us are sleeping, and some of us are trying to. 4am. I nap. 6am the news on the radio clicks on. A church shooting, white fury.