Quick dream post. Last night, or this morning, I dreamed that I was back in Chicago, at the Harlem Avenue El station, except the station was now connected to an airport. I needed to fly somewhere, but no one was available to sell me a ticket, so I had to run down Higgins, looking for a travel agent. Everything was boarded up, like a ghetto or something, with a few liquor stores, casinos, that sort of place, and a ton of gang gravity in huge letters along the sides of the apartment building. I ran a good seven or eight blocks to a travel agency where a little figure of a Hawaiian man stood in the window (I’m not making that part up, that’s actually from my memory, we used to stop at their drinking fountain while walking), but I believe that travel agency was gone as well. That’s all I remember. Maybe I need to return to the city for a day. More later.