Getting ready for another session. Tomorrow is another day when fiction becomes reality. Or is it reality that becomes fiction?
"She felt her own muscles crawling like worms - a firm bed that she knew to be insubstantial. Only space was permanent. Nothing else had substance. The bed flowed with many bodies, all of them her own. Time became a multiple sensation, overloaded. It presented no single reaction for her to abstract. It was Time. It moved. The whole universe slipped backward, forward, sideaways."
- Dune Messiah, Frank Herbert
