Lucid Graduation Practice  I'm at Carter Church for a graduation practice ceremony. I'm in a pew at the back right side of church. We're being called row by row to walk up the center aisle and around back to our seats. People's names are called, row-by-row, from the back. I walk up with my row. There is a mistake made: I'm out of order. I think it's no big deal because this is practice. I'm back in my seat: the last person on the right end of the pew. I see my high school classmate Kory Reynold's father walk up the center aisle. He's a big, scruffy biker man with dark hair and facial hair, wearing a ripped black Harley Davidson tank top under a blue flannel shirt. He responds to someone at the back of church when he walks up the aisle, disregarding all of their concerns and interests, shrugging them off like a brute. My friend's brother Jasper Yams returns from his walk up the aisle. He is tall, and has a black cast on his left arm. He stops to say something to my friend Matt Yams, who is sitting in front of me in the next pew. In the pew in front of me are Matt, Kory, Gino Teavor, my dead friend Mark Long, Nolan Sires, and others. I think of people's last names and the order they have been called. I realize that I'm out of order. I look at the group in front of me, and see Mark. He is a boy: a little, young grade school kid with messy hair and a cute face. I look at him, saying, "Mark." I know I'm dreaming because Mark is dead. I stand a float upwards, looking and pointing at Mark.