...and it seemed to me that I awoke, though still I slept, and I awoke to a great tumult and din, and I saw DEATH, who bore a scythe, and went mowing men, and they did flee from him, but escaped not. And I was sore perplexed how I might avoid that fate. And I spied a light afar that shone down from the sky, and at the place whereon it shone there was erected a Sign, like unto a great letter O bisected, and a Voice spake unto me, saying, "Here is the means whereby one may escape the fate that I have shown you, yet few are they who attain it." And the light was extinguished, and the Sign was not to be seen, and I was so plunged into despair that at once I swooned and lay as if dead. And while lying thus, I received a further vision...
...that I was blind, and had to feel my way around a network of tunnels full of wizards and strange beasts. I longed to be able to see them, as I was bewildered by the texture of their scaly, slimy, sticky skin. The beasts' skin was almost as bad. As I passed through a junction between two particularly rough-walled tunnels, I heard a voice behind me, chanting in a language I did not understand. He must have been performing powerful magic, because my energy was drained and I fell against the jagged wall. Despite its uncomfortable nature, I fell into a deep sleep in which...
...I dreanmt that I was a mounted soldier, riding around outside Buckingham Palace. I was concerned with repelling errant pigeons who were flying all over the place, mainly by waving my arms and the sword I was carrying. A senior officer came and congratulated me and said I would be rewarded by having tea with the Queen. Entering the hall of the Palace, I was greeted by a tall butler, who showed me through to a huge room containing merely one small table for two, on one side of which sat Queen Victoria. As I sat she began to talk. Resting my elbows on the table, her words on current politics washing over me, I drifted off... I dreamt...
...I was Prince Albert on my wedding night. Queen Victoria was stood in front of me, clad in only... but I couldn't bear to approach her! The smell! Oh, dear Lord, the rancid, vile stench! I reeled backwards in a swoon. "My dear Albert," she cried, "what is the matter?" But as she walked towards me, I fell backwards again, and again, until I had collapsed on the floor. I tried to stand up, but the smell... the horrific reeking stink, such an odour I have never experienced and hope never to experience again. It permeated my every sense, and my mind, and I lost consciousness, only to dream...
...that I wandered in Slough, and was sunk in great Despond, not knowing whither I should go, that I might be saved. And I encountered an aged woman, who wore a cloak, and on her cloak was that Sign of the bisected circle that I had seen for but a moment, and far off. And I spoke unto her, asking who she might be, and what was the meaning of that Sign which she shewed. And she replied, "How are you, I'm Mrs. Trellis. Would you like a cup of tea?" And I trembled at that Name, and once more swooned...
...to find I was a lemon scented car freshener hanging from the rear view mirror of a Mk II Austin Allegro (one of those with the "square" steering wheel circa 1979). Sadly, the car was being scrapped and my lemon-scentedness had declined to barely nothing so I'd been left in the car. A sudden noise made me realise not just that the car was about to be crushed, but also that this was an alarmingly sentient state of affairs for an inanimate object. The shock and fear made me pass out, and I dreamt...
...that my foot was set upon the Way with assurance, and as I walked in that strait way, I met another man whose body was strangely bent. "Who art thou?", I asked. And he replied, "I am Half-Twist, and I am bound for Lancaster Gate. Shall we walk together?" But I replied to him, "Is it not writ in that Little Book that informeth us of the Destination and the Way thereto, that those who half-twist to that place shall meet with ruin and destruction? Change thy way, I beseech thee, and walk a better." But he scorned me, and cast me into Knip, and I could not escape. Then I might have despaired, but I remembered that saying that says, when the diagonals are closed, inaction is the strongest action. So I sat down, and farkled awhile, and at length fell asleep and dreamed...