The dream is of an edge, but of nothingness. There is nothing, but I step out and make sounds. These sounds go off to the left and drift slowly away as do more sounds made. Eventually the sounds come back - a little faster, going off to the right. They come back faster again, going off to the left and forming a figure-of-eight. Off then, and back ever increasingly fast in a figure-of-eight, until at last all is a blur - and solid, and it cannot be re-called back, it just is, and always will be.
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