Your actions are mightier than any architect’s intentions. I bring this up because it is important to remember that the Dream House is real. It is as real as the book you are holding in your hands, though significantly less terrifying. If I cared to, I could give you its address, and you could drive there in your own car and sit in front of that Dream House and try to imagine the things that have happened inside. I wouldn’t recommend it. But you could. No one would stop you. Dream House as Picaresque — Before I met the woman from the Dream House, I lived in a tiny two-bedroom in Iowa City.
