The bed in the dream is the size of a room. Or the size of a coffin. Or it’s your...

Sunlight comes through the window in bars — real bars, from the real window — and falls across the birdcage...

In the corner of a garden you’d forgotten you had, there’s a nest. You didn’t build it. You don’t remember...

You’re carrying the groceries in from the car — the ordinary kind, the Tuesday kind — and you can feel...

You’re halfway across the dream-city before you look down. Left foot: a running shoe, laced tight. Right foot: a high...

The clearing is the kind that only exists in dreams — light falling in columns, dust hanging gold in the...

There is a key in the dream that you never owned. Heavy, brass, the kind that belongs to a house...

Architects have a saying: a building is a frozen argument about how people should live. Your dreaming mind seems to...

Your mother is standing in the kitchen, but she is translucent. Your best friend is talking to you and his...

You are in your own kitchen — the one you have used for years — and behind the pantry there...