Don't usually drive in my dreams. Don't usually drive in a version of Washington, D.C. where traffic is as complicated as it is in London. I got scared as I tried not to hit anyone or anything, then I remembered a detail that hadn't even existed until I thought it: if I get into really bad trouble on the road and needed to get out of it, I could just make the car teleport.

Really. And I did.

To the wrong place. Inside. Inside a drug store. Inside a drug store slightly down the hill from the place I'd teleported from. The car still at the level I'd teleported from. The car hung in the air briefly like Wile E. Coyote with wheels...then came crashing down on rows' worth of drug store goods. Um, sorry?