|09:01 pm - I woke last night to the sound of thunder|
Actually, I went to sleep last night to the sound of thunder, another of those unseasonable storms we've had lately. What I woke to was the fragments of a vaguely erotic dream about the dragon kings, which was who the protagonists of the earlier, unremembered part of the dream had turned into. All that remains is the picture of Gouen (or possibly Goujun) standing very still on a night porch in a failed attempt to evade his oldest brother who was searching for him because Reasons. This still made me very happy for most of the morning until reality reasserted itself.
My mother was able to lose books in her bed- also lighters, cigarette packages, hair brushes, bed jackets, and you name it. I've now done the same. The book I was reading last night in the sideroom bed has simply vanished. I suppose it must have slipped down one side and slid underneath the platform, but I can't see it at all. No matter: wasn't an enthralling mystery after all. Started An Artist of the Floating World instead, hawkeyed looking for the hints that the unreliable narrator is unreliable.