In Nils’ dream Jamie was rescuing a cat. Somehow the creature had gotten to the traverse rod above a tall wide window. What was a little odd was that there were no curtains. Maybe the cat had pulled them down in getting up there. Jamie had pulled a kitchen stool next to the window and was reaching up toward the cat. Early morning sun blazed through the window.

Immediately Nils knew he had to take that picture. Maybe it was something he could paint later. He grabbed his camera, adjusted the lens and shutter, and snapped the picture.

“I’m going to send this to Auguste,” Nils said to himself. Then he realized it was a film camera. He’d have to unload the film, develop it, and print it, and he hadn’t done any of that in years. The chemicals were almost surely useless by now. And did he have any photographic paper? Did he even have a darkroom anymore? And even if he managed to make a print of the picture, he didn’t have Auguste’s address, only his email.

Nils snapped awake.

“What is it?” Jamie asked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Nils muttered. “You were rescuing a cat.” He explained the dream. “I’m so disappointed,” he concluded.

“Did I get the cat?” Jamie asked.

“It was only a dream,” Nils said.

“I know, but did I get the cat?”

“Oh, Jamie. What difference does it make? It was only a—”

“If you wake up from a frustrated sex dream, we make love to make up for it.”

“The cat got away,” Nils said.

“I see,” said Jamie, getting out of bed.

“Wait, aren’t we going to fuck?” Nils asked.

“No,” Jamie said. “We’re going to the animal shelter.”