I was swimming in grass. It was my backyard at home, and there was a layer of water over the grass. It didn’t appear deep, at least to the eye, but there were three or four of us swimming in it. I emerged by the tire flower bed near which my sunflower had once lived. I marveled at why the yard would become covered in water. When I looked again, from the steps at the back door, the yard looked as it always had, except perhaps without the tool shed. It must have happened only in my mind. It felt more real than today.