It was snowing in August, and my brother and my sister were with me in North Chicago. There was some driving up and down the I-5, and my sister’s friend Abigail figured into the picture somehow. Parts of Milpitas flickered in and out. We rode a plane that had to taxi from Sacramento to… somewhere. Maybe Stockton? There was a freeway sign that read US-385 Sacramento. Altogether, it was pretty calming, although I do miss my brother and my sister.