Patroclus' Dream
I am in a room, it seems like it would be a kitchen, but it is not. Where the fridge and oven should be all I see is blurry shadows. It's as if my mind hadn't completed the dream, rather just inserted me into it half finished.
I looked down to my hands, one is holding a glass of milk, which rests on a table I am sat at, the other holds a choc chip cookie.
In the blink of an eye, I am atop a steep desert dune, the wind whipping at my face, making my clothes feel tight across my body as they move with the wind. I look to the sk, the sun is setting, a nail-thin moon is pale, but visible. In fact there are two moons.

Somewhere a camel grunts, I wake up.