Re: The World of Dreams
Last night there was a bloated, aging pyscho-slasher with deep scars in his body like somebody had tried to fillet him years ago. He flew around on a gigantic red brick borne through the air by a team of swans. The man couldn't speak properly, but just croaked and mumbled. I think he shot arrows with a bow, but that might have been part of an earlier dream. It got a bit fuzzy.
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