To dream such dreams,

to banish despair with the conjured light of face and form,

drawn perfectly from decades ago--

such is the magic of faerie wings and moon beams.

In that twisting and infinite moment,

perhaps a reflection of what was in another time …

I wake up in a strange room, unsure of how I got there. I don't remember going to sleep. I feel sluggish. The walls are beige and the floor is immaculately clean white tile. I've never seen such clean tiles. I'd heard about floors so clean you could eat o…