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At some point very, very early this morning, shortly after I think I may have pressed snooze on the alarm for what was (and always will be) the first out of countless times, a naked Rocket lying next to me stirred and wrapped an arm tighter somewhere around me.

Half asleep, he said, "You know what I heard? The coffee place is closing."

Half asleep, I asked, "Really? When?"

Crickets.

Snoring.

I fell back asleep too. And I dreamt that Rocket told me that the coffee place was closing. I wondered what we would do then with our coffee place gone. The one where the neighbors gather to get their plug-ins, to check in with other neighbors. The one where Rocket can be found on any given day, sometimes with me and sometimes not, sitting outside on the bench with an iced coffee and a cigarette taking a break from "freelance work". (Nice gig if you can get it, as I always say.) In the dream I asked him when it was closing and what we were going to do then. I woke up again at the second (or was it third?) sounding of the alarm before I got the answer.

Rocket was still asleep beside me. I thought to myself, I have to ask him if the coffee place is really closing and if so, when and what will we do then. I drifted off again not wanting to face the day just yet, only to awake again at the insistent beeping of the alarm and think: Was the thing about the coffee place just a dream? I have to ask Rocket if the coffee place is really closing and if so, when and what will we do then.

When we both finally got up and out of the comfort of the bed I asked Rocket if the coffee place was really closing or did I dream that he told me it was. He said it really was closing. I asked him when. January, he said. I asked him, Then what will we do? I don't remember the answer.

Living halfway between the fishmarket and the South Street Seaport under the landmark eye of what was once the Twin Towers and just a handful of blocks down from what would become Ground Zero, Rocket had joined his neighborhood's volunteer front full force when the World Trade Center went down. We walked out of the apartment this morning and down the street toward the coffee place. We passed the Seamen's Church where services were being held for the second year anniversary of 9/11. It was the same day. The weather was eerily the same as it was then.

At the coffee place around the corner from the church the owner served the plug ins for me and Rocket and as I dropped a dollar in the tip jar I almost asked him about how I heard that the place was closing and told him that it made me sad, but it was weird because I still couldn't get it out of my head that maybe I had just dreamt it all. Just as I had that morning in bed, I kept floating between consciousness and the surface of a dreamlike state.