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The Otherness of My Dreams
The man and the suit were part of my dream world, they were familiar. But there was a presence behind his eyes that was not of me or my world. The wrongness I couldn't explain to myself any more than I could adequately explain my dreams to another person. It would ever sat invisibly inside the distorted form repulsed me beyond explanation. No matter how many city blocks I put between myself and the sense of it, no matter how high I tried to float away towards rooftops and safety, I felt it pressing on me. Its presence had an alien friction that was prowling my dreamscape. Eventually, I became too lucid to hold the terrifying hunt in my mind.