A spaceship rests inside a bubble of gauzy red fluidic space. Lines draw outward in all directions, tracing paths of movement and attack and probability and a thousand other vectors. It can, when needed, enter normal space to engage in combat but is terribly inefficient then — even boring.
While I imagine listening to a tight, slick, silly song by the band Tenacious D, I realize a sudden visual insight into the natural curve of the human face. I see it as a contoured path that our eyes follow on all people, but especially pretty faces, a shallow S-shape which I can perceive as line of small letter s’s. Odd, but I can’t tell if I fell asleep in the morning after the first dream or if I successfully remembered an earlier one.