I'm in the house I grew up in. I'm in my bedroom in the basement. I've just woke up, and it's about 6:15am on a weekend. My mother and sister are still asleep it seems. I have the memories of dreams lingering in my thoughts, and I want to write them down. But it's so early.
I walk over to the computer that's near the foot of the stairs. I'm concerned that any sounds that the computer makes will travel up the staircase and become amplified; its long, narrow, tunnel-like dimensions make a good conductor and projector of sound.
I walk to the foot of the stairs and notice that the area was cleaned up a bit. A small desk was just placed there next to the electrical outlet. This is a good sign - someone finally decided to make productive use of the space.
I turn around to go back to my room. Now I need to climb some rickety stairs. I wonder about this. These stairs seem to run parallel to the main stairs that I was just standing at the foot of. That would mean that my room is on the main level of the house after all and not in the basement. Yet curiously there isn't a way to get into the room from the main level. I wonder what part of the house my room is adjacent to - perhaps there's a secret passage that connects the two. In the back of a closet, perhaps?
When I reach the top and enter the small space, I notice how the ceiling of my room appears buckled as if years of water damage have warped the panels. The whole room (plus the stairs) seems to have been stuck onto the side of the house like an afterthought.
This dream mirrors reality. I did wake up at 6:15 this morning with dreams in my head, and I considered getting up early to write them down. (Actually the Pee-Meister Squirt cat demanded to be let into the room, which is why I woke up.) But instead of getting up I went back to bed to dream some more.