A Treacherous Road

If you ride one of the busses around here to the end of the line it will take you to a nice little island connected to the shore by a bridge. It's a nice place to hang out in a cafe, and there's some interesting shops. I found myself there after not having been for a long time, and I wondered why I had stopped going; it was lovely.

Then I woke up. I've never been to that place. It doesn't exist. There is no island, no bridge, no road, no bus.

It is an especially strange thing to dream that you have had a certain dream before. Have I really dreamed this before? Is there some dark corner of memory that dreams can hide from the waking mind in, but be accessible in dreams again? Or am I only dreaming that I remember this? It's a hell of a way to start the day, waking up and feeling reality slip.

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