Strange dream last night, I think while I was on the verge of wakefulness -- drifting in and out of consciousness -- so there was a weird sense of reality to it.

I was walking around a decrepit barn, when I looked inside and saw my old dog, Mitzi. She seemed happy to see me, and of course it was good to see her, so I went inside. At first I was a little concerned because she was, after all, dead, but she seemed to be fine. I petted her a bit and she seemed pretty friendly, laid back. I told her that I missed her, asked how she'd been. She licked my hand a little.

All the while I was loosely aware that I was dreaming.

Then I started to have visions. I don't know exactly how to describe their quality -- faded yellowed silhouttes, almost like I was watching them through a semi-opaque brown film. Scenes of soldiers marching -- hundreds of thousands, millions. I couldn't be sure of nationality or era, but it seemed contemporary. The visions started to go out of focus, and I suspected I was beginning to wake. I tried to force myself to stay asleep, and that seemed to loosen my grip further. I decided just to relax and pay attention to the images, and they came back into focus. More people, civilians probably, millions and millions of people in huge throngs flowing along like a massive river, being split into smaller streams, like the fingers of a delta.

I became aware of my body floating, slowly rose to a shallow level of consciousness, and fell back asleep.