We weren’t in Skinny’s anymore. As I felt myself falling into that sea of blue, I thought of Debbie Gibson.

All of a sudden, my eyes were overcome by white light, and I found myself standing on the shore of a vast, wide lake. It wasn’t blue, but the sky was above my head, clear and cloudless. It was clearly fall, as the leaves on the trees on the opposite side of the shore were a variegated array of reds, yellows and oranges. A small, cubical brown-shingled house sat within feet of the shoreline, looking to be just enough to keep a modest kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom for two. A deck extended from the house; you could very easily dive off of it into the water, but it wasn’t a wise idea. There was room underneath the deck for canoe storage, driftwood to build fires, and the like. Jackie was sitting on the deck.

“Do you like it?” she asked, scratching the head of a white fox-like dog that lazed at her feet.

“Where are we?” I asked, taking a moment to adjust to my surroundings.

“A little corner of my mind.”