Walking is futile in a night terror, with each step the sands shift in a current you wish most not to follow, the deserts this far out become more ocean than foundation. The bell descends the dune towards you, magnetically towards your place in the valley. The need to strike it, to wake from this place comes with the increasing first light. In dream you know that sun is not of your own, it will see you if you wait much longer. Urgency floods your thoughts with the need to move faster, out of this gulley, to the bell.