By Susan Harper
I was startled awake in the early hours of the morning, not long ago, by a brief but ominous dream. In it, I was with a man and woman whom I did not know well and did not trust at all. We were standing in the parking lot of a bank, when suddenly the woman handed a camera to the man, whipped around and stood beside me, hugging my shoulders, her face right next to mine, and — as she was moving into this position — said to the man, “Here. Get us in front of the ATM.”
I understood in that instant that they had plans for me, dark plans, and that one step in the process was to document a non-existent friendship between us.
In the dream I moved just as quickly as the woman did, stepping aside and turning around all in a single motion, running away and calling out to a total stranger as if I had just seen a long-lost relative. I knew that I had avoided being in a photo with the woman, and that the ATM camera would have caught me fleeing from them. But I came to with a gasp, sitting straight up in the bed.