Moonwatcher

INT. CHILDHOOD LIVING ROOM - DAY

Another storm. I see downtown Dallas, Texas out the window. It is closer than in reality, perhaps by half the distance. All at once, the lights in every building blink on. Some of the lights resemble the mercury vapour lamps in the unfinished towers of the World Trade Center in Manhattan. Also, one or two of the buildings are being hoisted up and down, pivoted on their corners, by giant cranes. These strange sights downtown alert me to my conscious state: Dream!

As usual when lucid, I can think very fast and efficiently. I instantly remember the course of action I had planned when awake for my next dream. First, I rub my hands together and demand, "Clarity now! Stability now!" For the first time in a dream I can actually see my hands because I'm concentrating on them. I also attempt to spin around, which is supposed to aid in stabilizing a lucid dream and prevent waking up. But my dream body is unresponsive and does not rotate. Then I remember that my main goal was to try to persuade a dream character that she or he is dreaming too.

I turn to my mother, sitting next to me on the couch. "Look, Mom! We're dreaming! We're in a lucid dream! Did you know you're dreaming?" She gazes at me with a quizzical expression.

Unfortunately the demand for clarity does not seem to have changed anything, nor the wish for stability: I'm waking up. "Mom," I say to her with a hurried hug, "I'll love you and Dad forever." Then I find myself slowly emerging into the reality of my bedroom, four thousand kilometres away.