Dream
I'm on a journey inward.
The first door I open leads into a closet-like room so large that I can't tell how far it stretches. The room is filled with clothes racks packed with costumes. It looks like an enormous dry cleaner's.
But I'm not here to pick out a fresh persona. I hurry along the packed ranks of fakery towards the back of the room. The wall at that end is radiating an extremely bright but diffuse white light. As I leave the clothes racks behind, the scene changes entirely.
Now I'm in a gloomy castle; no sign of the bright light remains. The only light is gray, and comes from narrow windows set high in the walls. I'm in a throne room, with an ornate but empty throne at the far end. Seated at its feet is a wizened old man. I cannot tell whether he's the steward or the court jester, a wise counselor or a fool.
But the seat of command is empty. It appears to have been unused for quite a long time. I think it has been waiting for me, and I am ashamed that I've been absent for so long.
Yet it seems that I don't know how to get there. I see where I need to be, but still I remain where I am.
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