Oh, you’d love the little one I rescued from a thrift shop, a 1985 home‑video titled “Night Terrors.” The spine was cracked, the lettering was faint, but when I peeled back the old dust I found a handwritten note in a shaky hand: “If you’re reading this, you’ve found the secret.” Inside the tape was a series of bizarre interviews with people who claimed to have had dreams of the future—no Hollywood polish, just raw analog footage. I frame the spine in a brass frame, dust it, and it’s the only thing that ever makes me feel like I’m holding a secret key to the past.