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In a narrow alley in some ancient, forgotten city, I am escaping. What chases me, I cannot say, but I am on the run. There is only one direction to go: forward. Behind is no longer an option. I race down the alley and see before me the ornate facade of a church built of beige, stained stone. It is my salvation, I am sure of it. When I finally reach it, the door is far above my head, and there are no steps. I feel trapped, but something lifts me until I face the portal. It is locked. But when I push on the heavy wooden slab, it swings open. Before me expands a sanctuary of beauty, at once intricate and clear. Stained glass sparkles above the opposite wall in a wide circle. Below and to the left is a comfy daybed, on which a man and a woman lie together in each other’s arms, both dressed in vestments. They are asleep, peacefully, and I realize there is no need for me in this enclosure. I am a disturbance, a superfluous presence. Then I notice a door below and to the right of the colored glass round. I pass through it to a courtyard bordered by a low wall. The trees stretch above me and yet I feel warm sun on my face. Birdsong of inexpressible sweetness wraps itself around me. Or is it instrumental music? I cannot say, and it doesn’t matter. It is both. The joy of freedom, of loveliness, demands but one response. I begin to weep. Or am I laughing? I cannot say, and it doesn’t matter.I wake up.