A letter found in the box that contained this narrative, being
addressed to the cousin of former patient, Miss Constance Byrne.
A note attached to the file of Miss Constance Byrne (now deceased).
Serpentine The Alleyway
A Ruined Church at the Precipice
Cousin - ,
The narrative that follows here is a faithful rendering of my wanderings
from the time of my retirement to the dawn. It is always the same.
I do not expect anyone will believe me, but I know that my dreaming life
is as real as my waking life. Indeed, I have learnt not to call these sleeping
narratives anything other than a different part of my reality.
When I first encountered the entity that appears on the towpath I was
afraid for She seemed hardly human to me. I had gone little by little into
this dreaming place over the course of twenty years, and I had explored it
wholly in her company. I do not know what my encounter with this lady
means, I intend to find out.
In my exploratory times there I have never yet met another person.
Although there were signs of life (or of creaturely habitation).This
landscape seemed to me to be ruined by war and by heat. What else could
make marble of glass shards ?
It is bleak there. At every dawn there occurs a throb of colour and I know
that somehow I am back here in this world. I do not believe that my
nightly explorations are a dream, for I have found tears upon my slippers,
and a rend in the lace of my dress.
She wants to show me something. She has indicated for me a bridge. I
intend to cross over it, and thereby to continue to explore the geography
of this unknown terrain.
I travel now alone. I am unencumbered by family, nor by tradition. I
leave to you this letter and some small tokens of my esteem. Know that I
am safe, and although I undertake this journey with trepidation, I remain