The other night I woke up at 3:37 am. I'd been dreaming about a mass murder in Barnes & Noble, staged by a woman with bright red hair named Caitlin. She stood in the corner of the store with a big, black rifle, and when she fired the first shot, a crowd of panicked customers went running toward the doors. I opened my eyes and the dream ended, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
What Dreams Say About Your Sleep