I'm driving down a long, straight, dusty road at twilight, through some kind of desert. The car is moving at great speed, and the landscape is blurring into a haze of colours.
Suddenly the thought occurs to me that I don't actually have a driving license, or for that matter, a car. I quickly come to the conclusion that I'm dreaming. Excellent!
If I'm dreaming then it will fun to smash my car headlong into the front of the next oncoming vehicle just to see what happens.
I see the headlights of an approaching truck further up the road, and so pull my car over into a collision course and push my foot to the floor.
As I speed towards the truck the thought occurs to me that maybe I'm not dreaming at all... everything seems so real... in fact more than real... hyper-real. The roar of the engine becomes deafening, my heart starts to pound, I'm having real trouble deciding exactly where my state of consciousness is, and the truck is looming closer and closer all the time.
At the last second I swerve out of the way, skidding my car to a halt on the side of the road in a huge cloud of dust. The truck roars past and thunders into the distance. I get out of the car and stand looking down the road. To my astonishment my car suddenly springs into the air and flies verticaly into the stratosphere!
Damn! It IS a dream after all! Cars don't usually do that! Now I'm SURE that I'm dreaming. A feeling of awe and excitement sweeps over me, but I feel that I have to control my elation in case I wake up my physical body which is at home and in bed.
I walk off the road and into the surrounding countryside, which I am suprised to discover, is actually covered in soft green moss. Looking at it I marvel at the detail. The intricate biological structure, the drops of dew reflecting the stars above in the night sky. I reach down and brush my hand over it. The dew is cold, and as I disturb it, it springs through the air, a shower of droplets.
I look up again and see before me a large rock jutting out from the landscape. Its' shape reminds me of of Ayres Rock in Australia, only this one is smaller, and covered in a strange green and purple zig-zag pattern. I walk up to it, always aware of the springy moss beneath my feet. A magical anticipation is woven into the strangely calm air surrounding me.
As I near the edge of the rock it starts to change. It begins to morph a staircase right into its side, one step at a time, each step appearing just in time to safely accommodate my ascent to the summit of this living rock.
From the top I can see the distant lights of a city way off in the haze of the night. The city lights seem to echo the pattern of the stars in the sky above me. The scene is utterly beautiful, frozen in space and time. My reflection, entranced.