In the distance, I see a derelict house tucked within a forest of live oaks. My eyes fixate on its splintered door. I cannot look away. I am inside the house now. I run my hand along its rotting mahogany bannister and scratch at the chipped lead paint on its walls. An alarm sounds beneath the floor boards. I am startled. I trip over a brass doorknob lying on the ground and land on a soft patch of the floor. A hole rips open beneath my feet. I try to catch myself but the floor crumbles in my hands. I only fall 6 feet before landing on my back. I go to pick myself up but cannot move. I wince and peer over my chest. Steel rebar protrudes from my abdomen. I cry for help. I am alone. I feel the heat slowly leave my body.

My sister and I sit at a picnic table. We grin at each other for a moment then start eating two ice cream cones. The sky is streaked with orange and violet rays as the sun sets over the trees. A string of lights comes on over our heads and illuminates the freshly fallen dew on the grass around us. Cicadas and crickets fill the air with sound. It is a perfect day. We sit and laugh for a long while. As we leave, we swing our legs out from under the table and stand up. My sister yelps and points to her thigh. A 6-inch long splinter pierces her leg. She stands on one foot while I try to remove it. It is deeper than I expected. As I start pulling, my sister shudders and loses her balance. She falls into the road and the splinter plunges deep into her leg. Blood stains the pavement. I hear a loud truck coming. I rush to her side. She is losing consciousness. I try to drag her back to the grass. The truck is getting closer. My hands keep slipping in the blood. I see the truck's headlights. I get on my knees and try to push her. I'm not strong enough. I slip and fall on top of her. The sky is black now. I look up and watch as the headlights get brighter, brighter, brighter.

I run through my presentation one last time for the night. I make no mistakes. I even remember to smile. I am certain I will win over the board of trustees and receive the grant. I pack my briefcase, wash my face, and set my alarm clock before climbing into bed. I drift to sleep instantly. I dream about the details of tomorrow. I wake early and well rested. I am proud of myself. Later, I execute my presentation perfectly and impress the entire board. As I go to shake their hands goodbye, an alarm sounds in the room. We exchange confused looks as the ringing grows louder. I feel something wet my hand. I look down in time to see the chairman's skin slough off into my palm. I scream and pull back. The whole room begins to melt. I am terrified. I frantically look for an escape. Suddenly, I am back in my bed. My heart is still pounding. I realize I had been dreaming the whole time. I look to my nightstand. My alarm clock reads 6:00 PM. I am confused. It should be 6:00 AM. I pick up my phone. I have 32 missed calls. I am overcome with dread. I missed the entire meeting.