Dreamed I was a lawyer. But the courtroom looked like a giant, lit tic-tac-toe, noughts and crosses, or Xs and Os. Standing before the court, it towers over me and my partner, a woman (no one recognized from life) and appears about five stories high. Instead of three across, it was five across.

There’s no idea what the trials were about. I was in a dark suit and carried a brief case, and she was in a light blue skirt and jacket, also carrying a brief case. Presenting arguments meant providing cubes. I’d just put it up there and the cube would slot into place. Putting two in a row meant I’d created a strong argument and would cause those two cubes to light up. Three in a row meant I won.

I kept winning with ease. More and more opposing lawyers rose to stop me but I kept winning. “This is ridiculous,” I told the woman accompanying me.

“I know,” she answered. “It seems like a waste of time. Do you want to go?”

“Sure.” We left.

The cube idea reminded me of how cases were argued in a 1974 novel by Lloyd Biggle, Jr., called Monument, except the cubes in my dream were much, much larger.