the water is pouring in under the door, and we can't keep the current from filling up the house. The rain falls and falls and we can't catch it all in our arms, it is much too sad. we see each other walking in the twilight on that familiar street, on opposite sidewalks, and we meet, hair aflame, but quietly contemplative. secretly full. we walk together, saying nothing, expecting nothing, but thankful. I am in a wooden house with a high atrium ceiling, the woodbeams meeting at a central point. There are six others here and they tell me how to do astral projection. They say that I must close my eyes and become completely still, and focus all of my energy on my heart's center chakra. Then I can feel the movement upwards and I split from my body and float up to the ceiling, and from there I can see my body, and I can see the other people's glowing spirit bodies, and we dance. I find myself outside, surrounded by snow and winter trees. I realize that I am dreaming, and I observe everything, and realize that everything is moving in choppy rhythm, like a stop motion animation missing a few too many frames. I awaken.