::fragments::

I remember something about a man who was pushed through a small white pipe, no bigger than the circumference of your thumb and finger touching--and I saw him after he emerged--he was hacking, convulsing, and his arms had turned into torn-looking wings, and it was as if he became a monster.

Also something about a woman I didn't know being raped. Her red dress. The crowd of men and women she had been hanging around with--biker types?--outside an unfamiliar bar.

Then, riding with my mom somewhere in Europe (not Europe), on some strange bicyclish vehicle. Some men were yelling at us, making fun of my mom, and I grabbed a big purple fruit, like an overgrown plum or fig, out of my handbag and was readying to throw it at them. I actually looked forward to lobbing it with all my might and could imagine the splash and spatter it would make hitting a window.

Someone had given Stephen and I a tray of white rosebuds that were edible. I was carefully picking them up and looking at their bottoms, since it has been over a month since our wedding, and this gift just came now. Some of the petals on the bottom were black, crinkly, or withered, and I pulled them off before putting the whole white rosebud in my mouth. Stephen kept eating them without looking at the bottoms, even though I mentioned he should check the petals before eating them. I don't remember the taste.

[Stephen dreamt last night that he was drinking rose petal wine with someone.]