That smell. The smell of food stands and urbanization. It reminds me of a border town in south Texas that I visited as a child. Why am I pedaling my bike through a border town at night? What is this strange dream I’m experiencing. I can hear my labored breathing and the gears on my bike turning, all to the sound of dogs barking in the distance. I look up at the stars; Orion is flipped upside down in a handstand. I slow down to take a breath at a bus stop, and then I remember