Wise Man Words About Sleep Away-camp

Sometimes I think Ogli and I must be like imperfect antennae, the distress signals traveling like light from dead stars.I guess it wouldn't be so bad, if the dreams didn't have the fated, crimson-tinged horror of prophecy. Or if I could forget them before waking. It's that dread, half-second lapse in the morning that gets me, when time's still just a jumble of tenses at the foot of the bed. I start awake with the certainty that I can actually do something to prevent disaster. ... Between the dying echo of a dream explosion and my conscious brain reassuring me, like an alarm bell ringing in a pile of rubble.
Author: Karen Russell