Almost Lucid: I'm at my childhood house again, sitting by the backyard doorwall. I see my old cat, Oreo, outside. I feel a strong sense of surprise, anxiety, relief, responsibility. She's still alive. I can save her. What should I do? I start thinking through the logistics of how I might bring her in, take her to the vet. ... I'm outside now, realizing that seeing Oreo was only a dream. I'm by the left side of the house, where the raspberry bushes used to be. I walk through where a fence should have been. It occurs to me that it is somewhat odd that I'm back here. I find a dog that looks blonde and fuzzy, kind of like Jolteon from Pokemon. I hear that the neighbor on my left is looking for it. I also note that the neighbors on the right had build a reinforced fence, and I knew they were B and J (who were on the wrong side). I find my brother working on the deck, and know that he has bought this house. I feel a sense of conquest over our childhood, sensing that he must feel that. A sense that he'll right some of the wrongs of our childhood. I notice there is a lot of broken glass on the ground, making me think about all the work ahead of him. Some of the oddness of the situation occurs to me, and I nose-pinch to reality test. I can breathe through, but I don't become lucid. I check a few more times, and I can breathe each time. I must not be plugging my nose entirely. I still don't become lucid. I ask my brother if I am dreaming. He says no. I do not question further. ... Some people I identify as Gen Z come over to help with the deck build. They ask that, since we are Millennials, are we going to pay them in Pokemon cards? I tell them no, we only pay in Cheez-Its. Fragment: I'm at a local nature trail with Daniel Love. We are sneaking around trees and bushes, following somebody I know to be Keith Hearne.