Michael Boccacino

Last night, I dreamt I was asked to be in Thor 2. I arrived on set in full Nordic-god regalia, complete with my own hammer. They slathered me in make-up and told me to stand on a hill, away from filming, until they were ready for me.

I practiced swinging the hammer over my head by the leather strap looped through its handle. Storm clouds gathered overhead, but instead of summoning lightning from the heavens, six corpses shuffled out of the earth, shaking dirt from their eyelids. One of them approached me, and I placed my hands on either side of his young face to whisper something secret into his ear.

The corpse blinked at me, and turned away with his friends to escape into the darkness. It was unclear if they left to fulfill some secret task I’d entrusted to them, or if they were abandoning me altogether. The only thing I knew was that I stood alone on the hill, and night was falling.