A lucid dream. A lucid dream I could not control. Rocking slowly down a river of jet black with no oars, currents of ink spinning me into oblivion. My empty head wondered: Am I even on a boat? It was night. There were stars, but I could not see them. All was shrouded, like a tarp was pulled over a body to hide it from the world. To hide me. A gentle whisper that became a shout, and my eyes opened. Light did not stream in, but filtered in as though the smoggy dust were being sucked slowly away. My vision cleared and focused. My senses became heightened: I could hear my heart pulsing wearily in my ears, and my breathing sounded like a howling wind. I could feel my limbs — my arms and legs, and my fingers and toes — but when I tried to move, I