dream:

In front of me, there is a shelf, sturdy black wood like mahogany but light in structure. The shelves are empty. I start to turn away, but instead, like a child, get on my hands and knees, crouch low and look far into the back of the very bottom shelf.

There is a scene of miniatures--not very many, but all fresh and clean and new. There are people. A mirror that forms a lake. And bright green mountains, like the molded part of the children’s game: The Game of Life.

And this is my secret space.