dreams return after a brief respite, for a short while only images would visit me in my sleep, tidbits, teasers, glimpses into my subconscious, a woman holding her sweetie's hands, a dog, but these images, still frames of fantasy, they are just that, no connected streams of images that tell a story to my unconscious mind, but they return, last night they did, and story be told, i like dreams, i like waking up in the morning, not having to read the paper, or a book, when i've already got a story in my head