I dreamt that I was riding on a bus through a sprawling and bustling city. I was sitting in the back and facing backwards, where there was a large window. As we were passing through a busy intersection, I watched a tram come at a sharp angle from one of the perpendicular streets. It was moving quite fast. As it was swinging sideways behind the bus, I saw two men, one older and another younger, walking along the tracks. When they spotted the tram, which was almost upon them already, they started running along the tracks instead of jumping out of the way. The tram mowed them down. The older man disappeared under the wheels, while the younger man was struck down by the front of the tram. Somehow he ended up clutching onto the undercarriage with both hands. His head was bobbing up and down in front of the tram as it was breaking. I remember averting my eyes in horror, for I assumed the young man was killed in an instant, as well. But when I looked at him a moment later, I realized that he was smiling in an apologetic sort of way. “Silly me,” he appeared to be thinking, his wide-open eyes pointed toward the sky. When the tram came to a stop, he tried to squirm out from under it, but he could not. He was stuck. His legs must have been mangled. It was clear that he was badly hurt, but that he was not yet fully aware of the pain. At this point I woke up, the young man’s strange smile etched in my mind.