Iheart_MyfatCat
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He remembers, eyes squeezed shut against the swell of nausea and vertigo that claws through him, being not-quite-thirteen, and listening eagerly to Mr. Clarke explain the science behind dreams.
“Dreams,” he’d said, “are often seen as these sacred experiences, something that has to have a deeper meaning. We have centuries of examples of dream interpretation, the art of examining commonalities between different dreams to find a single interpretation.”
“The thing is,” he’d continued, “dreams are just your brain’s way of processing and regurgitating information; a fruit-salad of information, so-to-speak. Sure, it can mean something, but it’s more likely to be a random grab-bag of facts and feelings that you’ve come across in life.”
A fruit-salad of information. Here, in the dark bathroom at a little past three in the morning, Mike breathes carefully, and tries to dissect where the supposed ingredients of his fucked-up dream salad actually came from.
Or:
Vecna is weak. Injured. He's still strong enough to hit the Party where it hurts.
Series
- Part 1 of this is where the worlds collide
Bookmarked by Iheart_MyfatCat
05 Jan 2026