I am at Toys R Us. It will be my son's fourth birthday. I'm looking for a Green Lantern action figure that I first received when I turned four. After some time, I realize the toy is unavailable. On my way out, I pass a young photographer with a Leica MP around his neck. I stop and chat with him, inviting him to my solo show at Littlefield. He declines, saying he is Jewish ('My last name is Horowitz!') and only goes to other Jewish events. Angry, I leave Toys R Us and find myself in a hotel in Palestine.
In the distance, I hear gunfire and rockets. Hezbollah is attacking Israel. Between the missiles, I hear Palestinians whistle and cheer. I want to go home. I run to the staircase and on my way down, I meet a British man. He tells me no one is allowed to leave and that snipers are shooting anyone who tries. Unfazed, I reach the hotel lobby and find security guards everywhere. I retreat to the second floor and find a small balcony. On the balcony is a ladder leading to the roof of the adjacent building. I run to it and start climbing. To the side, a sniper notices my activity and shoots.