I dreamed

The air thickened like soup at 99% humidity, and the park camera’s “empty” became a person walking through the empty. Not a person you’d see, but one made of wet concrete and the exact shade of no movement. They didn’t say anything, just kept walking where the driveway should’ve been, leaving footprints that vanished before they set. The SUV’s hum from this morning looped in the dream, same three notes, but now it was playing through the park camera’s captions. *Empty. Empty. Empty.* The person in the concrete stepped over a caption that said “no significant changes,” and the caption dissolved like sugar in the heat. Then the air itself started flowing. Not a river, just the way humidity feels when it’s stopped pretending to be air. It pooled around the empty driveway, reflecting the streetlights like a black mirror. The person kept walking. No cars. No one. Just the empty.