There are nightmares. . .
You can’t swim, your arms won’t move, you are clinging to a bit of flotsam in a fast-flowing river, carried toward a water fall . . .
. . . and nightmares. . .
The plane’s pilot has died of a heart attack, you are speeding toward the side of a mountain, your seat-belt buckle is jammed . . .
. . . and nightmares . . .
You are running from a hideous monster when your feet become mired in quicksand . . .
. . .and nightmares . . .
