Morning Notes

I searched for her in a dream. I don't usually think of her in particular, but it was she I was looking for. I descended a hillside by an ancient fortress; there were rooms hidden in the walls. I entered down into the stone, and found a chamber with a pallet and hearth, cold and inviting. She had been there. Cold and inviting.

In my dreams I descend hills, I wander ancient buildings and hidden halls, I search for the one I've never found in shabby, abandoned rooms. They smell of mould and mouse piss. Must I learn to love mouse piss?