I woke up and turned my head toward the closet, just as a tall black man emerged from the bathroom. His head left my line of vision as he neared the edge of the loft bed. Then his long fingers wrapped around the edge, just inches from my face, and suddenly his eyes were staring into mine. He leapt on top of me, his knees digging into my chest, his mouth whispering into my upturned ear, while his long fingers tap-tapped on the upper corner of my skull, telling me to just be quiet, shh, just give me what I want. Had I locked the door before going to bed? Or were the nightmares just getting more vivid? I started screaming, he jumped off of the loft with a crash and ran back into the bathroom. I was paralyzed for about 20 minutes, waiting to either wake up or for him to come back. Finally I forced myself off of the loft. I went outside, crawled into my trunk and went back to sleep. Later, still in the trunk, I flipped a coin to determine whether it would be Canada or Mexico. I ended up in Mora. Good enough. I might keep going but I'm definitely going to wait a few days before I go back. In retrospect perhaps this wasn't the best idea. If he was real, he's probably already pawned all my stuff. If he was a dream, eventually I'll have to sleep again, though somehow I do feel a sense of accomplishment.