The dream always started in the dark, wet, organic murk. A number line emerges horizontally, moving towards the right. I count along it, faster and faster.
The dream ends on the light-soaked diamond shaped roof of an incredibly high tower, surrounded by clouds. I have finished counting.
I find myself back in the murk. I realize I have to count all over again. I wake up screaming and convulsing.
I haven't figured out when or how the horizontal line 'turned the corner' to become the vertical tower. I don't remember any crossroad.
... dealing with the spaces between ...
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