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Last night I had a strange dream.

Well, I suppose the dream itself wasn't that strange. Or, really it was. The whole consept of me dreaming is something strange. For that last six months I have not had a dream occur. But last night, I was blessed enough to have one.

Perhaps it wasn't a blessing. More like a curse, but one that only lasts an hour or so. I suppose you can't even call it a dream. More like a nightmare, but it wasn't quite that frighting. More bizzar, and left me breathless when I awoke.

I was walking down a hall way of an old house. A victorian styled house by the looks of the furniture and window shape. Countless doors where on my left, windows to my right. Everything was in grayscale(grays and whites, somtimes blacks). And as I was walking, I fumbled with a key and tried to open each door. Every time it didn't work, and that door would disapeer. I guess I was looking for something. My search became for frantic, and I dropped the key as I incerted it in the lock. The door burst open and everything went black and I had the sensation of falling.

At that point I woke up. I had kicked off my blankets and a cold sweat was running down my temple. It took many hours to fall back to sleep.