And the dreams so rich in color. How else would death call you? Waking in the cold dawn it all turned to ash instantly. Like certain ancient frescoes entombed for centuries suddenly exposed to the day. (32.1)
In his dream she was sick and he cared for her. The dream bore the look of sacrifice but he thought differently. He did not take care of her and she died alone somewhere in the dark and there is no other dream nor other waking world and there is no other tale to tell. (50.1)
He woke whimpering in the night and the man held him. Shh, he said. Shh. It's okay.
[The Boy:] I had a bad dream.
[The Man:] I know.
[The Boy:] Should I tell you what it was?
[The Man:] If you want to.
[The Boy:] I had this penguin that you wound up and it would waddle and flap its flippers. And we were in that house that we used to live in and it came around the corner but nobody had wound it up and it was really scary.
[The Man:] Okay.
[The Boy:] It was a lot scarier in the dream.
[The Man:] I know. Dreams can be really scary.
[The Boy:] Why did I have that scary dream?
[The Man:] I dont know. But it's okay now. I'm going to put some wood on the fire. You go to sleep.
The boy didnt answer. Then he said: The winder wasnt turning. (60.1-60.12)