A man wanted to invite people he had seen only in his dreams to a party. He wondered where to send the invitations.

He also wondered if there was a way to invite the many people that he had been in his dreams. Would inviting himself be adequate?

And what about those people he had seen only in his dreams? The orange minotaur, the gangsters, the Nazi colonel who played chess with him, the woman on the stepladder at the library…and what about the skeletons and skulls, and Raquel Welch…this was getting complicated.

Besides, there was really only one person he had seen only in his dreams that he wanted to invite. In fact, this whole party idea was just a ruse, what he hoped would be a kind of message, a post-hypnotic suggestion that would enable him to see her again.

Maybe if he could dream of a post office, he could send the invitations. He wondered if people in his dreams had email now. Oh, and his cellmate, the man he had argued with over whose dream it was….

And what about the people in the background, those who set the scenes and helped out? It was no use. Maybe someone in his dreams would invite him to a party.

He would see her there. She’d be off to the side of the room, engaged in conversation, pretending not to notice his entrance. Pretending that she hadn’t dreamt up this whole party idea just so she could see him again…