As we look, a contraption with three wheels goes careening around the pool's edge. The thing makes motor noises, but looks to be an animal with wheels. On its third round of the pool, it shoots off the patio into the pool, sinking in a shower of bubbles. The woman behind me runs past in a flash, naked, already disappearing into the bubble stream as I realize that she has moved. Watching the bubbles rise, I strip and dive below the surface in a long, slow arc. There, below the surface, I find a great settling of matters and peace, swimming down slowly along the thin trail of bubbles. I begin to run out of air and head toward the surface. First exhaling some air bubbles, I then gauge my ascent from the depths by them, rising only as fast as they do. When they reach the surface and burst, I wake up.

I am a student in a large university, which is also a religious institution and a hospital. I am in a classroom that is on at least the second floor, but not quite the highest floor. In my class I am growing a crystal. It is.