In the end, perhaps these dreams remain while others slip away because of their nearness to waking life. Inside the Labyrinth reality retreats, but never farther than the play is from backstage. The dividing line is only morning fog, the way out as near as opening your eyes and blinking away the dream. Somewhere along the line I fell through the curtains just so as to leave them disturbed, and when the right light falls upon the right nook the dream beckons again.
Here ends Entrances to the Labyrinth I: The Mills. There will be a part II later this summer, and possibly studies and/or rejects to show up occasionally as filler. For now, back to regular blogging.