Every night, without permission and without warning, we surrender ourselves.
We close our eyes in familiar rooms, beneath familiar ceilings, beside clocks and routines and ordinary lives. Then, the rules that govern us quietly dissolve.
Distances collapse. We become strangers, heroes, children, witnesses, or someone else entirely. Entire worlds emerge from darkness and disappear before sunrise.
And while we dream, none of it seems impossible.
The mind is an extraordinary architect. It builds from fragments: a face seen once in passing, an old fear, a forgotten conversation, a place visited years ago, a wish never spoken aloud. It stitches these pieces together into narratives that can feel more vivid than memory itself.
Yet dreams are cruel in their brevity.
This collection was born from such dreams.
Perhaps, somewhere in these pages, you may recognize something.
A place you have never seen before but somehow know.
A fear you cannot name.
A memory that never happened.
Or perhaps a dream of your own.
If so, then maybe we have visited the same places while asleep.