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She's dancing, suspended in the dark zone of ocean like a light on a wire, phosphorescent, on fire under her pale skin. She is moving like a fighter in a video game, precise and unwavering, but slow, pirouetting at half-speed, her foot reaching out to touch the lintel of an invisible doorway. She knows how to open doors in the dark.

There's no way back to the surface, no way to the bottom of the sea, and there's nothing all around her but the unknown cold, but she can open doors. Her skin shines like the lure of a fish. She's opening a door. She doesn't even know how she knows how. Without her, there would be no other worlds than this one.

I saw her once years ago, when I was asleep in a strange country. I dreamed I was walking along the shore of a gentle blue sea, where there were many strange and exotic colours in the sand that made the frilly waves warp like rainbows. She was asleep under the water, floating just below the surface. SHe was asleep but awake - aware of me, but not fully conscious, a being of function and symbol, a determiner of meaning. Not like me. A different form of life, unaccountable, like the prince screaming, the girl who opens doors.

She stands up in the shallows, water pouring from her white robes. Her eyes are black. She holds up an unrecognizable symbol written in charcoal on a piece of paper, and says "I don't think you quite realize who I am." Behind her a door opens in the sky and empty space begins to pour through in great waves. I feel a growing lucidity, a weird awareness of what is happening. I realize that she is a part of me, always present in my psyche. I don't know what it means that we've met, but I know it's important.

I wake up.

I'm at home, outside the house. Off in the distance, I can see a tornado forming. I yell to someone (I know not who), "Tornado!" They come over to look, and say "It's heading this way!"

As we run into the house, the tornado had recessed into the clouds, and began to reform just overhead. I remember thinking that I really wanted to get a picture of it.

We run into the house, and sit on the floor. The entire house shakes mildly, as if it were a low-grade earthquake. After it stopped, I went outside again, just in time to see another tornado (maybe the same one?) start to form. I run back into the house, and endure the shaking once more.

Dream Shift

I'm sitting at a row of computers. The room is dark, lit only by the light of the monitors. Sitting to my right is Gates McFadden. I look over at her, and immediately get the impression that she and I are good friends.

She stands up and asks me to sit at her terminal, and explain to her the parts of an e-mail header, and what they mean. I point to the first line on the monitor, and explain what the "Return Path" is. I then point to the second line, "Received From", and she takes my hand in hers as I point along the screen. As she holds my hand while I guide it down through the headers, there is an audible tremble in my voice; I am nervous.

After I finish explaining the headers, she smiles. We look at one another for a few seconds, and I stand up. She says "Thank you", and we swap seats. During the remainder of the time we had together, we would occasionally look at one another and smile, sharing brief glances.

Dream Shift

I need a ride to the moon. I have to go to the moon to install some kind of antennae assembly. (I have no idea why.) Anyway, it just so happens that I'm in front of my old high school, and one of the substitute teachers has a flying VW bus. I ask for a ride, and he initially says "No", but time shifts forward and I find myself aboard. I ask the driver if this thing can possibly reach the moon, and he says "I don't think so."

I head to the back to sit down, disappointed. Everything then fades away, and I eventually wake up.

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