I think that's what Edgar Allen Poe called sleep. The dark doorway of dreams. I'm getting less and less of it these days. I know why, you know why.
It's Isaac's fault. Why did he show me them? How did he show me them? I was blissfully unaware. Ignorance was bliss for me.
And now I can't find him. I've looked in the library each day, in the same room, but he's never there. He's gone.
Disappeared like a dream.