The Russian invasion of Ukraine has stalled. Can't take the cities, so now they're bombing civilians. The West sends anti-tank and anti-aircraft weapons, but will that stop missiles? Will this end in a world war?

THAT NIGHT...

A paparazzo is stalking me. His last victim, a friend of mine, described how he slowly wrecked her life. She was never able to get legal help in stopping him--he's a pro, careful to stay just within the law wherever cops are watching; but when unwatched, he'll trespass, stalk... invade.

Not in my house! I start planning to buy a gun.

I agreed to meet friends in a diner's parking lot. But the stalker appears. Stay inside my car, windows up. My friends appear, but they include the stalker's last victim; she warns them soon as she spots him, and they too stay inside; we can't meet here.

I start my car and try to leave; friends follow. The lot is crowded, a struggle to leave. I carefully back out along the edge.

The street's jammed too--the tail end of a festival. Circus acts! A small stage, a Ferris wheel. Stiltwalkers roam. Two sexy trapeze girls in sequined swimsuits, one plus butterfly wings and feelers, one plus dragon spines and tail, each hold up a pearl big as a beachball, as if it's Chinese New Year.

I long to go play, and learn what those pearls are for... but not now, with our stalker...

We can't get through here. Too busy. So instead, I head for my house on a tiny back alley, barely a yard wide. The car, now full of ALL my friends, shrinks to a stroller. My friends object--"It's too narrow, bound to be trouble." But the stroller just fits, and it's as fast as a major street: no traffic, no stops, and a straight run toward home. No sign of the stalker here either.

I push along with musclepower alone. A steep hill ahead, but I push myself, and get enough of a run-on to top it.

Down the far side, then another block-long climb--but I'm roaring along in a downhill sprint and it carries me right up. Down again at a run...

Uh-oh. The far side's so steep it breaks into steps. Bounce the baby buggy down... jarring but unavoidable.

"Ow! Ow! OW!" yell my friends in the stroller. Eggs in a basket...

Still, the shocks are never fatal, and I keep control of the carriage.

Why does this feel so familiar?

At the foot of the stair is a street that offers smooth sailing all the way home.

My ex-car stroller transforms again, into a bike. I can get us there by putting my friends in the bike basket. They may not want to ride with me--I know those steps felt rough.

But the Painful Steps had to be taken.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

• Opportunistic stalker, invasive if no cops around: Putin, of course. He worships Stalin, who said "If you encounter mush, advance. If you encounter steel, withdraw."
• Circus, girls with pearly globes: suggest Chinese New Year parades (lunar, happening in spring), with their dragon dancers holding giant pearls. So maybe... renewal? Felt strongly positive, anyway. But I was too freaked by our stalker to explore the circus.
• Steep hills, but climbable: inflation, shortages, market instability, maybe even climate instability and famine. Challenges, but surmountable.
• Baby buggy bounces down steps: the key to the whole dream! I found it all a vivid but a head-scratching puzzle til I noticed that sense of deja vu. Where had I seen that bouncing stroller? Oh! In Eisenstein's classic film The Battleship Potemkin, set in Odessa, Ukraine! Soldiers shoot protestors, and a baby buggy rolls out of control down the city steps. So... the war in Ukraine. "Painful steps must be taken", and a rough ride indeed. But a short stretch only and I didn't lose control; and then our course got smooth again.
• ACTION: the Ukraine war will be rough--Putin wants civilian casualties!--but not a Forever War. Nor the end of the world--or so say my dreams.

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