You are folding laundry in the laundry room of your modest suburban Colorado home. You are pleased with this zen task. A cool breeze fondles the lace curtains of your open window. The crisp midday air begs you to inhale fully, which you do, and this also pleases you. Suddenly, but without startle, a marble-worker’s firm hands delicately grab your waist. You are flush. You are dreaming. You decide not to wake up. You see where this goes.