The dream came and went in abstract, ragged confusion. A kaleidoscope distortion of imagery, from a distant, resillient time to the more recent and difficult past. His dream visited upon him a wasted, washed out time of hours, days and weeks spent in mental struggle,. They reached inside him, groping around ungloved, fingers probing , prodding, kneading, failing to find the soul so sought after. But I have a soul! he countered, entering his own dream by a tradesmans entrance, clothes dusty with bulding site detritus…..the dream stopped in its tracks…looking round, jarring him out of somnambulism….