A detatched house. We're outside in our huge garden. It's a beautiful day. I think it was my wedding day. Close to it, at least. My wife, family and friends scattered around. This is all very rare. This, I guess, is the day we would have created together.
My wife and I head inside. A friend follows us and remarks "You had something to offer her? What's behind these then?", then starts knocking the golden bricks out from the walls of my house, revealing what appears to be complete darkness behind it. I get the impression that this is a reflection of his mind, not my own, as it is the depth of connection, not the space in which it resides, which is important to me.
Later I realized that I built this place as somewhere for she and I to go and be alone. And that communal dreams are not recommended if you have theives in your vicinity.
My teeth are falling out. My diamond is being burned. I have been tortured. A voice just said "I hope he gets Alzhiemers". I think it was someone I considered a good friend. I am not having a good day.
Oh, and there was an explosion I managed to outrun.
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