Chicago

On my way back from the West coast, in 2003, I travelled through Canada. By some good fortune, I found a German resort on Lake Wobegon (right). As I traveled into town the next day, I passed a young middle eastern man riding a bicycle in the opposite direction who seemed to look at me with unveiled hatred. The next night I dreamed that Al Queda members had managed to get a nuclear weapon into a Canadian port, shipped it by rail and were riding a train across the boarder into Chicago.