The dream I was woken up from involved skating from Brooklyn to lower Manhattan, only to see three immense explosions on New Jersey side of the Hudson, followed by faint booms, and buildings on that side disappearing. People running in the streets, rumors of terrorists with guns, and suddenly it becoming empty. I know I need to run and hide, but I don’t know where. I know it’s pointless to even try and use the phone to call my friend I was supposed to meet here – networks are always down after terrorist acts. I take the skates off and walk, barefoot, uptown, along the river edge, until I find a boat, a shabby looking yacht with too many layers of paint in the little rooms belowdecks – I check and it seems empty – I’ve never sailed a boat like this before, and feel guilty stealing it, but I decide that the owner won’t be looking for it now and I will return it later so I take off, and immediately come across a small tugboat full of water and a scared-looking four-year-old boy standing on the deck in the water up to his chest. I lift him and take him on my boat, thinking that I need to find his parents later – after we are out of here. Being on this boat I already feel safe, dry and warm. Then I get woken up.