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.^«;§£§@##             £ dream palace £             ##@§£§;«^.
..^«;§£§@#             ^ ----- ------ ^             #@§£§;«^..
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........^« not  actually a palace. a cottage in the «^........
.......^«;  woods (temperate climate, rains every   ;«^.......
......^«;§ other  day,  springs  and  streams   and §;«^......
.....^«;§£   mysterious iron and stone artifacts,   £§;«^.....
....^«;§£§    birdland-ish eternal spring (late     §£§;«^....
...^«;§£§@                 spring))                 @§£§;«^...
..^«;§£§@#                                          #@§£§;«^..
.^«;§£§@##                     «                    ##@§£§;«^.
..^«;§£§@#                                          #@§£§;«^..
...^«;§£§@ i wake up every morning at six am.  it's @§£§;«^...
....^«;§£§ dark,  and the stars  are out,  but  the §£§;«^....
.....^«;§£ sun is about  to  rise.  its a long day, £§;«^.....
......^«;§ before it  fades  to  night  again,  and §;«^......
.......^«; then  it stays so  until  i fall asleep. ;«^.......
........^« it  doesn't  rise  unless  i've  had  my «^........
.........^                  dreams.                 ^.........
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.......^«;                     §                    ;«^.......
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.....^«;§£ in  this cottage there's a  lot of radio £§;«^.....
....^«;§£§   equipment, sound stuff, synths, tape   §£§;«^....
...^«;§£§@ players. pen  and paper, books, cameras, @§£§;«^...
..^«;§£§@# mirrors,  prisms, and  various things to #@§£§;«^..
.^«;§£§@## do  art with. the fridge  is filled with ##@§£§;«^.
..^«;§£§@# differet foods,  all of them intriguing, #@§£§;«^..
...^«;§£§@             slightly weird.              @§£§;«^...
....^«;§£§                                          §£§;«^....
.....^«;§£                     §                    £§;«^.....
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.......^«; i  have friends -  there's a cat,  and a ;«^.......
........^« dog  (who  is   ridicolously  large  and «^........
.........^ wants to be the big spoon).  i listen to ^.........
........^« the shortwave radio, and transmit  a bit «^........
.......^«; myself,  songs  and  poetry,  and  found ;«^.......
......^«;§ sounds from  the forest. the others tell §;«^......
.....^«;§£ of their  lives, play the guitar for me, £§;«^.....
....^«;§£§ and  tell tales  of  the  old  world.  i §£§;«^....
...^«;§£§@      consider them friends as well.      @§£§;«^...
..^«;§£§@#                                          #@§£§;«^..
.^«;§£§@##                    @                     ##@§£§;«^.
..^«;§£§@#                                          #@§£§;«^..
...^«;§£§@ most importantly, there's a  two  square @§£§;«^...
....^«;§£§ meter area  on  the  floor  where i  can §£§;«^....
.....^«;§£ "save" things.  whatever  i put  in here £§;«^.....
......^«;§ will  not  be  affected by  the  nightly §;«^......
.......^«;   reset. everything else, however, is    ;«^.......
........^«     completely reset overnight: synth    «^........
.........^  patches removed, food uneaten, wounds   ^.........
........^« healed,  and  wherever and  whenever i'd «^........
.......^«; fall  asleep i'd  always  wake  up fully ;«^.......
......^«;§ rested  in  my  bed.  sometimes  there's §;«^......
.....^«;§£ accidents   where   i  lose   stuff   by £§;«^.....
....^«;§£§ forgetting  to  put them in the  square. §£§;«^....
...^«;§£§@                                          @§£§;«^...
..^«;§£§@#                    .                     #@§£§;«^..
.^«;§£§@##                                          ##@§£§;«^.
..^«;§£§@# at   night,  i  have  demi-lucid  dreams #@§£§;«^..
...^«;§£§@ where  the spirits of the  forest around @§£§;«^...
....^«;§£§ the cottage tries to communicate.  here, §£§;«^....
.....^«;§£ it's not  endless  but  connected  to  a £§;«^.....
......^«;§ large  sprawling  city,  where  my radio §;«^......
.......^«; friends live. we  go exploring  together ;«^.......
........^« - things are deep and dark - but  unlike «^........
.........^ me,  they never remember during the day. ^.........
........^« this is  a  mystery  we  often  discuss. «^........
.......^«;                                          ;«^.......
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