The Seventieth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

This morning my Lord recounted to me his dream of the night before. And he said to me, “My dear scribe, last night as I slept, I dreamt. And in this dream the walls of the Palace bowed and bent, and the floors and the ceilings ran like glue, and the air around me turned to glass, and with every breath I took I tried to scream, yet no scream would come, for I had by then been turned to stone.”