“He would leave his head behind if it wasn’t screwed on”.

He might dream or take the subway to another world, a darker but glossier place where litter dressed as confetti. He’d see the head doctor, right there on the station platform and say…

“Doctor, please doctor, my head is in a really bad place, make it better.”

And she’d reply “Dude you think you have it bad, you should try being a woman. Grab this chance and you won’t be sorry for what might have been”

The doors would glide closed, the doctor would be gone, he’d awake. All day he’d be slightly worried.