Where Aren't They Now: 18

Angela dreams in black and white.

She's read stories about why this happens-- they say that if you were raised with black and white television you dream without color. Her friends all had boxy color TVs, but in Angela's home everyone huddled around an ancient, rabbit-eared set each night before bed.

She has always wondered what it might be like to dream in color. She assumes she's missing something important, some deep and meaningful layer of detail.

Angela tried to force it once, in a weekend-long binge of color television. She focused mostly on game shows, which are the brightest and most visually offending. It didn't work; she dreamed of Rice-a-Roni for a few nights, but still in dingy grays.