Last night I dreamed I found my book bag in a public restroom. The bag had been ransacked; only a few items were left, rolling around the bottom. I put my hand into my bag but couldn’t locate what remained; whatever was there kept rolling out of my reach.

The people who had stolen from me left messages, written on the bag’s exterior: "Thanks—I needed a thumb drive." "This makes getting the textbook for class much easier." Others wrote that they’d only taken some of my things, the more important ones, and only for a little while. They’d bring them back, and thanks for understanding.

I cried in my dream. I didn’t remember having gone to that lavatory in the first place, and wasn’t sure how I ended up there again.