(Let me tell you about my dream this morning…)
We were walking up the stairs to your apartment. I was behind you. You opened your front door, turned around, and suddenly noticed me. With a gasp, you hit an emergency switch which slammed down a portcullis — a genuine medieval portcullis — over the entry. Immediately you recovered, apologized… a bit embarrassed perhaps… and began trying to retract the damned thing. It was stuck. There was a solid mechanism, but it was finicky, antiquated. This went on for a long while. It got awkward. I felt silly helping you from outside. I don’t know how we got it open. Or who. But the portcullis ended up on the floor. I don’t know if we just broke it down, or what, but by the end of the dream we were making out on top of it… metal spikes and all.