I was on a bike ride through a park far from home, going up a long hill. As I came to a grassy opening in the trees, and a bend in the road, I realized I'd have the chance to look down on everything I'd just climbed. I parked the bike with a kickstand and walked out across the grass.

Shortly, two suspended persons in white face crossed the air in front of me, fluttering their feet with their noses in the air: flying mimes. At first amazed and credulous, I had to get a closer look. On closer inspection, it became clear that they were in fact not flying but making use of a thin high wire. Fooled! Fooled by flying mimes! Feeling fooled, I remembered my bike and figured I'd better get back to it before someone stole it. I turned around and there it was, on its kickstand near the road. I felt relief.

What happens next is hard to capture, so pay attention!

I blinked, and the bike was gone, along with the mimes. The significance of this timing did not escape me, not even for a second. I'd been foiled again by flying mimes—in fact a thieving band of silent gesturing brigands. Blast.

However, the fact that the bike had disappeared instaneously, and only after I had thunk a desire that it not be stolen, suggested to me strongly that I was almost certainly in a dream. But what if I wasn't? This possibility worried me. I had to go home and check whether the bike was still in the hall. To the end, I sat down on the side of the road and thunk some more. A motorcycle blazed past, going up the hill.

Sometimes dreams kinda suck.