I dreamt a dream last night.

There I was, on my titanium track bike, making way to an office in Manhattan. When I arrived at the door of the concrete monolith, I locked the front wheel to my frame, and rested my bike in front of entrance. I felt secure laying it there next to the others.

I walked into the building, smiled at some guards and took the elevator to the top floor. The secretary greeted me, and politely directed me to office 3404.

'Walk all the way to the end of the hall. Then turn right.'
'Thank you.'

I took a step forward, and noticed that my messenger bag was missing. I was wearing a suit, not rolled-up jeans. My name was on the door. It was my office.