I spot a falling star and, understandably, decide to chase it. It falls in a park. I follow it, but the park is frozen and I slide and fall over. I see 2 people from a photo taken in 1991. They are pushing a trolley through the park. As they get closer, the trolley turns into a Cadillac. It’s full of people, some dressed as Prohibition-era gangsters. We’re all outside my house, in a street I don’t recognise in the real world. I shout upstairs to tell people that versions of themselves from the past have turned up. They don’t care because it’s too early and they don’t want to get out of bed.