I had the strangest dream last night; it went on forever (no doubt a few seconds), the longest sustained I recall having recently. I was in Germany, on vacation or something, with my mother - or my father, I wasn't sure; they seemed to be in between parents and would change with the course of the dream. At the end they were old and unrecognizable. Germany, I can't explain. We were visiting some sort of musuem or gallery. We walked around and someone told us we had spent 162 days inside. A beautiful woman with green eyes said something to me on the way out. She may have been the one to mention the 162 days, but I'm not sure. She spoke with an accent and seemed intent on getting a lot of words in as we left. We went outside, into a cobblestone street draped with banners for some festival, and that was it. The dream has stayed with me all day, mostly because it makes no sense. I used to have very vivid dreams; there is one from when I was 15 that I remember to this day. Not so much anymore. In some ways you feel like you miss something; and in others, you don't. Some were nightmares that followed you around in the day.
Anyways. Gathering lots of bits for the next novel. Soon she will start to coalesce and take form. Maybe this weekend and I can get to the first chapter.