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Now I’m even writing in my sleep

Just before I woke this morning, I was dreaming in an unusual fashion: in my dream, I was disembodied and observing other people, writing a running commentary in my head, very much like the process of writing fiction when I’m awake. I can’t remember ever doing that in my sleep before, but of course we only remember bits of what we dream.

Anyway, when the alarm woke me, I was watching a woman, dressed in brightly colored clothes, leaving some sort of grungy-looking train station, and, mentally contrasting it with the bridge of the Enterprise from Star Trek: The Next Generation, my dreaming brain constructed this sentence (or something very like it):

“It was a shame, she reflected, that the future was not the perfect, pastel place predicted by the TV shows of her youth–well, except for one gorgeously decorated bar downtown that dispensed more women than beer.”

That’s been stuck in my head all morning, so I figured I’d better write it down.

Not quite sure that I’ll ever find a place for it in a story, though.

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