Pinhead stars teased me from the deep above -- fluttering behind a frosted shield. All I could do was gaze from within my cosmic coma. My eyes reached out to desperately grasp at anything heavy, but the crescent moon only ran further, eerily backwards towards the horizon. An earthen fog of roasting peat coated my nostrils. Delivering me, a final whispering gust slithered into my ear piercing my brain, and I toppled into blackness. It was the last scene I remember and now it’s my only dream.