When the door opens, we are only a few centimeters from the tunnel. In the middle of the sun, it’s not that bright, as the edge of the tunnel shines outwardly, filling Charlie’s dream with light.

“We’re going to your dad’s dream, right?” I ask.

Joy nods. She’s the boss. I’ve learned that we can’t make her do anything.

The tunnel, slimy, with strange pock marks, always makes me feel woozy. The fact that it seems to be shrinking slightly and expanding slightly doesn’t help. The fact that I have to lower my head to walk in it also doesn’t help. I really hate these tunnels.

We come out to stand on Charlie’s Shroom. I look around, feeling disoriented. The Shrooms are not in the same position as they were when we came in.

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