Although I slept and although I dreamt, I was not at rest. My muscles perpetually flexed while the blood surging through my veins heated my damp, rank flesh. My eyes jutted beneath their lids, absorbing an orange light that radiated heat upon me and into the core of my mind’s visions.
Time passed exceedingly slow as I plodded from dream to dream without connection or interest, excitement or fear. I was unwillingly and strangely detached from foreboding scenes of gargantuan, ominous beings invoking their power across the universe. In each of these dreams I, too, played the role of such a being, but I was void of their knowledge and purpose; I was a wayward ghost struggling to find its escape. This disunion brought nothing but the incessant fight to awaken, free myself from this obscure oblivion, and probe the physical realm beyond my sleep where the drenching orange glow saturated my clenching body.