15

The path takes him to the central street of the village. The place is depressed and, like everything else he has encountered since coming out of the darkness, the place is, well, out of place. The out-of-place-ness is in keeping with the same infuriating logic of the dreamscape in which he has begun to think himself entrapped. He is sick of dreaming. He is sick, for that matter, of not knowing whether he is dreaming or awake. Okay, he says, It's weird, here. Wherever I am. I get it! He says this too loudly, and the people, a couple of them, look at him. He wants to run up to them and shout googoogoogoogoogoogoogoo!! He refrains from doing so, but it takes effort. And hunger is beginning to pound down upon him. He had thought hunger a nagging voice, but this hunger has a kinetic force. He checks his pockets. He has found a knife and flint -- perhaps the same whatever has provided him with money. No such luck.