It occurred to me that I might be dreaming. Just one of those thoughts I get every now and then when all the pieces aren't adding up. Usually this is the point when the world starts falling apart like some cheap set design. Usually this is the point when it becomes clear that there is no point to this dream. Usually this is the point when I wake up.
Somehow, that didn't happen. I was fully conscious that I was asleep, but able to stay in the dream.
The surroundings were disturbed by the fact that I was aware that they were products of my imagination. Things simply disappeared, but a basic cityscape (something like the old part of any city ... brick and mortor) remained. Realizing that I could do anything, I did the only sensible thing. I took flight. There was a resistance, a gravity. I started to swim into the air ... that seemed to help, but there was a strong force pulling me back to earth.
I flew in through an open window and slid through a brick wall before attempting to fly into space. I never made it past the clouds.
