It’s the same dream again.

  “Give me your hand!” a desperate voice screams. You look up, shocked to see a woman with an indistinct face and wearing elaborate climbing equipment holding out their hand towards you. You cock your head, confused. Then you remember: you’re hanging on by one hand to the outcropping of a massive gorge. Your arm trembles with the effort, and pebbles fall down around you, peppering your face like hail.

  You start to stretch your hand up, but the effort is too much, and it falls back to your side. The woman looks pained, and she reaches ever so slightly farther, clearly at the end of her rope. “Please!” she shouts over the wind. How long has it been this windy? “You need to give me your hand! I can’t pull you up unless you do!”

  Your arm feels heavier than it ever has before. Are you holding something? Ah yes, the rock. It drags you down, and you begin to slip. You reach up again, desperately pulling, but the rock is too heavy. Why can’t you let go? Wait, how were you planning to grab her hand while holding a rock anyways?

  You blink, and the world turns indistinct.

  Oh. You’re sleeping, aren’t you? A vague awareness of the feeling of your face against your arm begins to push at the edges of your consciousness.

To wake up, turn to Page 4
To let go of the ledge, turn to Page 8
To reach up to the woman, turn to Page 9