Rockabye

Maea is cashing in her MP for sekrit info!! In the spaces between snores, the shallow parts of sleep and the prolonged hum of dreams there is room. Room for something. Something more, mayhap. Bright things, dark things, things of monumental imporance and things of which later cannot be recalled. To find one's way into this room is a rare treat indeed, and though it is through no conscious effort on the part of Maea's mind that she slips the surely bonds of her dreams and finds her pale hands on the brass doorknob, here she is. The knob turns.