This is a dream from many years ago.

I ran through labyrinthine hallways and had a power called 'antitesselation' and could deconstruct things into hexagonal panels. Many of my dreams at the time involved being chased. I believe I was being chased by someone or something dangerous in that one, too. It felt like something out of a video game or movie.

This is not the interesting part of the dream.

I turned a corner and there was an old dark wood door with a brass handle set into the otherwise blank, uncomfortably blue-white, science fiction future hallway.

I stepped inside, and found myself in a very different dream. The space was dark and cavernous and full of water. It was an underground river within a large cave. I was standing on a dock floating in the middle of this underground river. The door I walked in from stood on one end of the dock, attached to nothing.

An indistinct figure stood at the other end of the dock, next to another doorway. I cannot recall his face, or what he looked like. I cannot recall his voice or tell you what makes be believe he was even a 'he' beyond a general impression that remains from the dream. When I think about this dream, I imagine him as wearing a cloak or a hood like the grim reaper, but I cannot say for sure that was the case, either. He seemed annoyed to see me, though. I got the impression I was not supposed to be there. It felt like I had wandered into the employees only room.

"You're about to wake up," he said. "Walk through this door." He pointed to the door to his left.

I thought about it for a moment, but turned and walked back through the door I had come from. Immediately, I resumed my dream about 'antitesselation' and running through the strange white hallways.

Just moments later, my real world alarm went off and I woke up.

At the time, I was unsettled by the realization that I had chosen dreams over my real life. It feels silly to worry about that now. Who wouldn't choose to dream a little longer if given the chance? Now, I'm more struck by the vivid memory of this very literal dreamscape, and I wonder about the indistinct figure I met. From a creative standpoint, I wonder about his work and his role to play in dreams. Is he a ferryman between the waking and dreaming worlds, and did I stumble onto the dock a little too early? Did I wander backstage by accident and pull back the curtain on something forbidden? He wasn't angry, just annoyed and eager to push me back to the waking world.

Lucid dreams are not uncommon for me, but this was by far the most memorable. Sometimes I hope I can find that place again in sleep and interview him. I think it would make for good story material.