My sister dreams of flying tortoises, cockatoos and parrots flapping in a perfect randomness. She watches from the porch of her cabin on the lake, strangely grown into a manor, and recalls the promise of someone soon returning from a time on the water. The tortoises make her think of portobello mushroom caps, frayed and black against the stainless blue. She wonders what this means, this tumbling opulence, this message in the night that my sister dreams.