Ten years ago, my old apartment in the heart of the city had a back window that I could climb out of into an alley where I could hop a short wall and wander into this dilapidated old mansion hidden away in the interior of the block, closed off from the streets on all sides by three-or-four story row houses. Despite the broken glass, we'd hang out there and have parties, even bonfires. One time my friend's band played a show there and everybody was in love with the shy, green-eyed lead singer.

I think a fight broke out or maybe the police arrived. Either way, I remember everyone having to escape through my bedroom window. I remember hustling them all out of the bedroom and down the stairs of my building, strangers mostly, more even than I'd noticed when the party was at full swing. I watched them all closely to make sure they didn't steal any of my books, but the green-eyed singer never went through. She must have known another way out.

Or at least that's how it happened in my dream last night.