You dreamed we had a dozen babies. They came out like grown-men, but naked, with beards and muttonchops. We took them to the tailor, so they could have suits custom-made. They threw pairs of scissors and tried to sleep on pincushions, and we had to tell them to stop. You wrote this all down in a letter, and sent it to my parent's house. They forwarded it to me, but I couldn't place your name. I realized we went to high school together, and the last I heard you had two kids and lived in Maine. The next night, I dreamed of you, and we did the same.