In the dream I made some kind of offhand comment to Grace about how the human ear was really pretty ugly, and not even very necessary.

Later I went into Grace’s old room (the original one) to find her with a towel wrapped around her head, mirror in one hand and a big pair of scissors on the other. One bloody ear was on the table next to her, and she was about to cut the other one off.

“What are you doing?!” I asked her. My first thought was to pick up the ear and put it on ice, and maybe they could reattach it when she came to her senses.

“I thought about what you said, and you were right,” she told me. “I’m cutting my ears off.”

Before I could say anything else, a saw her raise the scissors and screw up her face in determination. There was a crunch of scissors cutting through cartilage.