“Some day, I’m going to found an underground colony on the moon,” Dane said.

I stirred my oatmeal in a repeating circular pattern, making little swirls that wove their way down to an eternally sweet and high fiber vortex.

“Neat,” I said.

“Yeah. And I’m going to take day-trips to mars in my personal space cruiser.”

“You don’t even have a car.”

Dane shook pepper onto his toast while I tried not to gag.

“I’ll meet a beautiful blue-skinned alien girl on Mars. Her name will be the kind of word we’d use to describe the northern lights, or Niagara falls. She’ll fall in love with me at first sight, and we’ll have wonderful blue babies.”

I sighed heavily.

“Great. In the mean time, could you maybe get a job?”

Dane looked up from his desecrated piece of toast, and smiled.

“I have a job, man. I’m a dreamer.”