“The house I dream of is gone. It caught fire decades ago, then someone else rebuilt it — same address, same general shape — but it became something my sleeping mind refuses to recognize. My psyche keeps the blueprint of the original, and it always returns to a floor plan that no longer exists anywhere on earth except behind my own eyes. It means the only place I can still meet my parents as they were then is one that has ceased to be. I find this unbearably sad, but also a mysterious gift. The house I lost to fire is the one house I am never able to lose.”