Surely some revelation is at hand

On dreams and crimes

It’s a dream I once had, that I still think about.

It must have been when I was an undergraduate at Harvard. I was walking around Harvard Square in the afternoon, on an ordinary day in the fall, as I ordinarily would. Everything was ordinary—except for the number of people I kept running into. Upstairs at the CVS, downstairs at the Bank of America ATM, a…