My night of hard medicated sleep was only 3.5 hours long this time, but the dreams came back in force, mirroring the events of the day.

I’m not going to get too far into the aquaFlora this time. It was about reframing trauma again, in a quite novel way this time, and at one point I was routing around traffic by floating underneath the highway spaghetti on a river, and on an innertube.

That used to be a thing, in the old country, and sometimes the river was in fact the Vair-de-Terre.

In other parts she professed her belief in my essential genius convincingly, and wept for what had become of it.

It was nourishing by some calorie budget method I don’t grasp.

Oh, and the river was flowing southeast as if toward Silver, but I got off the water and ended up going north again toward another hometown by the Peaks.

Or maybe even right here in my own backyard, as they say.