I dreamt of all sorts of things last night, but only three fragments remained with me by the morning. In the first I was in a car that almost hit a bulky woman in her mid-fifties. I was sitting next to the driver, who stepped on the brakes just in time. She was crossing the street without looking. I remember her startled eyes as she leaned heavily over the hood that first bent down and then reared up as the car came to a sudden stop. In the second I was to take care of a large dog whose owner fell seriously ill. The dog was to be adopted by someone else, but it was to stay with me for a few months in the meanwhile. I remember it growling at me, its teeth bare. From the start, the dog did not like me at all. In the third dream fragment I was crossing a wide street together with a bunch of friends. We were all familiar with the intersection. It was just repaved, and we realized only halfway across the street that the traffic regime had been changed. We were looking to the left but the cars were coming toward us from the right. They were coming fast, as well. Laughing, we dashed across as fast as we could. When I woke up, I felt deeply disappointed that this was all I had managed to fetch from the wonderful world of dreams.