I am far above everything I know and falling, falling fast, through the sky. There is a parachute. It is fun and safe. So much safety.

—Carter J.

A big room is coming slowly and strangely into focus. Garish lights. A long table, a stack of trays, chatter and clatter, the smell of hamburgers cooked with buns. Could it be… Yes, it’s the high school cafeteria… Excellent! I loved high school!

—Megan G.

Water. I sense water. Where am I?

It’s not the bath with the clawfoot tub.

It’s not the pool at Equinox, where I exercise regularly.

It’s not the beach on the Delaware shore, when generations of my family gather every summer during the first week in August.

It is a deeper, darker, more primordial water. The water where life begins—where life possibly began—and where life ends and evolves, a place in time as brutal as it is beautiful, as uncaring as it is enveloping, as silent as it is roaring.

It could be very, very, very scary.

Actually, it’s fine.

— Samantha B.

I’m at the bottom of a staircase looking up at endless staircases, each harder to climb. The first staircase is wide and inviting and carpeted. The second is regular. The third is steep with a creaky step. I’ll just stop whenever I’m comfortable. It’s even ok to walk down, or take a moment to experience the stairness of the moment. Plus, quad work.

— Brooklyn C.

I show up for the big court appearance, even though I’m not a lawyer. I could have been a lawyer, I could have been anything I put my mind to. As the thick oak double doors leading into the courtroom open, I see a judge in a black robe at the end of an aisle and there are benches on both sides. People from all the points in my life are seated. It’s a similar set-up to my real-life wedding, which occurred at the appropriate age of 31. My parents have been married for 35 years.

Suddenly a weird sense compels me to look down.

I’m not wearing…

…the right shade of tie. I persist. The judge smiles benignly.

— Andrew N.

I’m having sex with an individual who is not my partner, but who is disturbingly familiar. I’m seduced and repelled. It’s kinky, upsetting, confusing. Christ, is this a family member?

—Everyone. Even the best childhood can only do so much.