Last night I had a dream where I was standing on the top of this steep green hill. I was surrounded by odd looking beetles and bees. At the top of the hill there was a tall white lighthouse. One single man lived in it. At the bottom of the hill there was ice.
I walked half way down the and hopped in a raft that followed along an oily river. I was accompanied by you and our little girl. She looked about five years old, you looked much older but I was exactly the same.
It started to rain soft and hard pills that then dropped and hit the ground. Coloured powder and smoke wafted out of them.
We sailed further down the oily river and hopped off onto a flat piece of ice, it felt fresh but not windy or cold. We used the masses of pill shells as pillows and blankets. The zombies around the edges played string instruments. We curled up together and our little girl wiggled up between us and slept in our embrace.