A bunch of clay figures, the mimics with mouths swirling a going into a big array of cogs. Then with that image, a big plastic cover hides it, following that morphing into a feline face.
“Is this what you wanted?”
Then the image is gone, himself with an argument with a girl over the a box of sweets, and shrieking over a ledge, a ledge twenty feet down filled with oddity. As the frustration of which tub of marshmallow spread apart of the
sweets is worth dividing.
sweets is worth dividing.
“No! Give it back.”
“I don't, stop tugging me. Ahhhh!”
Then to the moment she falls behind, there is no sight, or did he blank it out given the circumstances. Fear comes down his insulted face, do he does not.
Then another memory, followed by an overloaded plate of cheeses, crackers, and nut spread. “Yeesh, a bit excessive.”
Then a congratulatory voice came, from the culture, from the family, from his grandad. From his eating disorder.
“Good job, that attitude will save the industry. Now come and do us a good duty with what you've inherited. Extra rations for the thinking.”
Then it all jumbled with his eyes drooping upward from his double bed, half naked. He had to write this dream down again, seeing how if it's going to mean anything. He had to see if this was the position he wanted.