Where is the line between what’s real and what’s just the wispy figment of dreams?
For years, I’ve dreamed about meeting a woman and a little girl at an underground train station. One of them — the woman, I believe — is wearing a solid red coat. Her daughter’s coat is either black or gray. They’re meeting me here, but I’ve never known why.
In the last week, I’ve dreamed about that station twice, for the first time in a long time. But there was something entirely different this time. In the dream, I was in my own house — not the modest house where I live now, but a grander house — and I heard a woman’s voice call to me from behind a wall.
I reached out with my hands and broke through the wall — ridiculous, of course — and discovered a secret stone stairway that led to a lower level. When I followed the stairs, I came out on a giant abandoned train platform. It was the same one from my old dreams.
This train station I’d seen for years was hidden under my own home. And the woman was there, too.

How do we know when to quit? Persistence may be futile choice
I’m exhausted and numb from placing trust in the wrong people
AUDIO: I need to reject a popular but emotionally dangerous path
Shared misery: Nobody can have air conditioning unless everyone can
We forget how to be happy, but children and animals remember
Tribal hatreds around me mean detour on road to personal peace
If you start sharing your abuse, some will tell you to ‘get over it’