  Since I don’t really practice morning writing, I can’t verify if I indeed had dreamt of myself being carried away by a flood on my bed. But if it’s any consolation, I remember falling down from the sky and landing on my bed. So what’s with all the talk about dreams? Well, because the story reminds me of dreaming – being omniscient in a story where I’m also a character. And come to think of it, it also reminds me of a hypnotized patient relaying his thoughts to his per-hour shrink. That’s why this is one of those times when I want a shrink for a relative or the expensive book about dreams just so I’d know what the story means if it were a dream. But then again, if the story means something bad, the story will lose its original flavor. I find the story quite funny, and I can very well relate to its details.
“I decide I have to be dreaming. Any actions should wait for the clarities of daylight, I drop back onto my pillow, and wrench the blankets over my head and my thudding heart, and squeeze my eyes tight for sleep” is quite a laugh when read with its premise. “…my fist under my pillow clutching wallet and documents, in the night grip of a voyager” reminds me of how I did the same when I slept over at a friend’s house, and how my dad clutches his gun beneath his pillow as he sleeps – the obsessive compulsive stance runs in the family, just so you know. 
