![]() ![]() ![]() Finally, in my dream, I was overwhelmed and just burst into tears. Then, I realized that I’d slept through an entire work day and missed a bunch of meetings - and I couldn’t even check my phone to see what people were trying to say to me, because it was cracked, like a clock in the book that the brothers set in the playhouse doorway until it accelerates to the breaking point. At first I accepted this as natural, and then I realized with a shock that there was supposed to be a street there. ![]() The entire street the house is on had been replaced by a long ridge of infill, with houses and churches relocated to the ridge so they towered over my family’s house. My nieces were there in my dream, but I couldn’t remember their names and kept confusing them with my sisters. I was visiting the house where I spent my adolescence - a house that now, in real life, is owned and has been significantly renovated by my sister and her family. What I vividly remembered was the brothers’ discovery of a playhouse where time speeds up, and Harry’s decision to deliberately age himself a year by staying in the playhouse overnight.Īfter I finished the book in bed, I had my most vivid dream in months. I didn’t remember the monster plot, or the neighbor girl who befriends the twin-brother protagonists: Harry and Barry. I just reread, for the first time since I was a teenager, one of my favorite young adult novels: Singularity, by William Sleator. ![]()
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