I'm walking around an empty house. It feels like someone is giving me a tour, like there's someone watching me from as I walk from room to room. The floors are a glossy maple color.
I walk toward a window. The sun is shining brightly through the glass and the floor has a golden glow. I walk in slow motion.
I'm outside on a deck. There is a crossed trellis above my head with grape vines threaded through the sunshine lit diamond cutouts. The light shining through the purple grapes makes them almost transparent.
Austin is there, standing in front of me. There are crying, crawling babies wearing nothing but white diapers. They look almost mechanical, like crawling dolls.
I say, "You Ok?" and he responds with a very confident "Yeah, I'm cool."
All I can see is crying, diapered babies. Crawling in circles at his feet.
I'm on the deck still, and I ask Austin if he knows how to change diapers and he goes, "Yeah." I then respond with, "Just make sure you wipe the girls front to back so you don't get poop where it shouldn't be."
Then I wake up.