One doesn’t tease an animal in the wild; one doesn’t disdain wearing a seat belt; one doesn’t invite an armed burglar into one’s home. But one has fantasies of rescuing people, being in the wrong place at the right time to find a pretty woman threatened by a man with a gun or to offer a meal in exchange for a story to a psychopath desperate for food and someone to listen. Millions buy their lottery tickets and someone gets lucky. Most risks—eating at a restaurant, crossing the street, drinking the water— one becomes used to. One avoids other risks instinctively, frightened to even think of them— such as refusing to try again, or having a dream and forgetting, after many years, how to dream it.