I'm always lost in my dreams.

I don't mean, off with the fairies, or just lost in thought.

I really am, trapped in dreams.

Not just my dreams either. They're always intersecting; and I'm left wondering if they're anyone's dreams at all. Surely no one would want to dream up these ideas.

Today I could be in a circus with trained dinosaurs; tomorrow, I'm in a submarine at the bottom of the ocean with the air running out.

It never ends well.

I don't even know if ideas like today and tomorrow can be applied in dreams.

It's not just me that's trapped in here. We all are.

This all sounds quite crazy, I'm sure, but when it's explained, it's going to sound even crazier.

It's that falling sensation that you experience when you're asleep. It's total and it's terrifying, but you can't quite explain why. It's a moment of weightlessness.

When you drop out of one dream into the next, that's the sensation. You're not entirely concious in this brief moment, but you still remember it.

The feeling races through me, making the hairs on me stand up- or at least, the feeling of them standing up. Before I can entirely comprehend the feeling, I get the feeling that I'm jerked awake; pulled upright and made concious in the same moment.

And immediately, my senses get barraged.

First, I smell salt. Sea salt. I'm near the sea.

Close to the beach too; I can hear waves crashing in on the beach nearby.

My view of the world seems to blossom outwards from the centre of my sight. For a moment, I can only smell and hear and feel the world around me. Then my sight returns.

It's sunset; the clouds are a dark purple with the sun slipping down behind them. It's not very cold, a sort of temperate temperature that I can tolerate but not overly enjoy.

My awareness of my surroundings grows with every second, my mind being overwhelmed with all the senses suddenly barraging me.

I'm standing on a wooden boardwalk; facing the beach. There's shops behind me, though I'm not aware of any people moving around. It's just me, for the moment anyway.

A wooden railing runs down the length of the boardwalk, providing something to lean on. There's streetlamps on the boardwalk too; buzzing quietly.

I finally notice what I'm wearing- the sort of stylish but useful suit you would expect from a 1920s gangster. Dark blue, soft to the touch, smells brand new. Faint white lines running down the vertical.

My glasses have followed me again, sitting neatly on the arch of my nose. They're like spectacles, with round rims and a thin wire frame. They don't improve my sight however, so I always wonder why they're in every dream.

What's weirdest about this scenario to me, is how normal it is. There's nothing wrong at first glance. I'm alone, but that's not unexpected.

Whose dream is this? I can't really expect this to be no-ones dream, it feels too much like the real world. Like someone is trying to escape back to reality.

Something causes my skin to crawl, my hairs to stand up, but when I look around, I see no one, hear only the ambient background of a created world.

I won't like this dream. I know that much.

That hair-raising feeling doesn't vanish as I look around. There's empty stores behind me. Their signs look faded, but there's no real sign of decay.

It's the emptiness I abruptly realise.

This looks like a big dream, but there's not a soul in sight.

Not even a Construct, the artificial people who populate our dreams.

No one. The sounds of the world feel loud and harsh without the din of society to muffle them.

I start walking down the boardwalk, my shoes making a faint echo that just seems to float on the crisp evening air.

The boardwalk just seems to go on forever. Behind it, details obscured by a lazy evening fog, a city rises up to dominate the horizon.

I can feel the tension building as I keep walking. There is something in this dream with me, and I feel compelled to keep going.

Step by step. I keep walking.

I don't even know how I feel it. It's like a ball of tension in my stomach, slowly growing tighter and tighter...

A corner at last.

The boardwalk just stretches out into the distance, with the same generic stalls dotting it. The same softly buzzing streetlamps down the length of it, with almost no variation.

Whoever designed this I think, skipped on a lot of the details.

Cautiously, I turn the corner.

A long street greets me, still part of the boardwalk. At the end, an archway marked the end of the boardwalk and the start of the city.

But I didn't really consider that important.

Far more significant was the burly man, sitting on a wooden crate in a dim gap between the light of the streetlamps. Shrouded partially in darkness, all I could make out were the broad strokes of his form.

Muscular. Shirtless. Long hair, framing his face. Head bowed, staring at the ground.

And a medieval sword in hand.

Nope.

My immediate thought was 'Nope, not trying that.' Giant guy with a sword? Oh that will end well.

I turn and run, absolutely legging it down the boardwalk.

More generic shops on a bland boardwalk. I no longer heard the soft ambience of the world around me. It was just rustling clothes and the sound of running feet.

My dapper suit is mercifully uninhibiting, and I'm able to run rather easily.

Another corner at last! I run around it- and it's the same street as before.

I was running in circles. Well, I was running in a straight line, but it was an infinite loop.

It's a dream, doofus I realise. It doesn't have to make sense.

This time, the man- or small giant, one of the two- raised his head. The shadows obscured the details of his face, but I knew he was looking at me. It was unnerving.

That feeling of tension and anticipation come to a head here. I swallow, unsure of what to do. If I run- I'll just end back here. The boardwalk is over an ocean- but the way this dream is designed makes me think this street is the only way into the city.

Interestingly, I notice, the shops in this street are rather more detailed, their signs less faded. On the seaward part of the boardwalk, they all just read stuff like "Fish" or "Food" or "Fishing supplies." But in this street, there is definition and detail to them. The one closest to my left is a seafood restaurant, with big signs out the front advertising the specials of the day.

Even the physical boardwalk is more detailed. There's shades in the wood, knots and lines in it. Like it was a more finely crafted part of the dream.

Significant, however, was the width of the street. Barely three meters across. The man in front of me seemed as tall as it was wide.

So running past him was not an option.

I cautiously approach him. More details are noticeable as I get closer. Big, thick nose. Eyebrows permanently fixed into a frown. Big eyes, but a horrific scowl in them. Jet back hair, rough scraggly facial hair. He truly looks like a giant- but his eyes have a look of humanity in them. He is a Dreamer, not a Construct.

"Hell-" I croak, my voice shaking slightly, my whole body full of energy and ready for either flight or fight.

"I must kill you little man" he replied, with a thick accent. He wasted no time on formalities.

"But- what?"

"You. I must kill you. Prepare to die little man." He stood up, and I realise his true height- a good two and a half meters of pure monstrosity.

"No! Please- You don't- Why?!"

"Because I cannot trust you little man. This is my dream. If I trust someone, they will betray me. I just want to be left alone."

"No! Don't do this! This is what they want! It's why we're in this situati-"

"Be quiet little man. No amount of begging can save you now."

I need a weapon I realised. A gun maybe? More hoping than honestly expecting.

A large stop sign shaped object abruptly appeared beside me. It said, in big white letters against a bright red background, "REJECTED."

I saw it only for a moment, then it seemed to blow away into ash in a wind that did not seem to exist.

The giant started to approach me, footsteps shaking the wooden floor.

The sheer futility of the situation became abruptly apparent to me. How big was he, how small was I? This wasn't even a fight, it was the squishing of a bug.

It's like David and Goliath I think with a wry smile. But then where is my sling?

Dropping from waist height, in a moment of dry humour from the Controllers, a leather sling and some rocks appeared beside me.

I snatch it up, while the giant stopped to laugh at the toy I dared to try use.

I swung it, around and around, and then let the small rock fly at my Goliath-

The stone bounced off his taught, muscled abdomen, like a pebble off a wall.

Goliath stood before me with a final large step.

"Make it quick" I asked.

"Ah. Now that, I can do."

With almost no effort, he swung his sword, and my head dropped clean from my shoulders.

He was alone again; while I was off to yet another dream in this endless, surreal nightmare.