I live in a tower; it's 1914. I'm in a socialist country in South America where it's warm. The tower I live in is over a kilometer high. I live with an eclectic group of people and I realise that Dracula and his thrall live next door, there's a door connecting our flats inside my own. It was locked but we can open it up and use it any time.

Dracula's flat is a shop. I buy some holy water when a ghost attacks, I get clues to the game we are playing, things to look for, books of information, cheat codes. I talk to his servant, she's nice and seems happy. That night I am attacked by a ghost again and end up ahead in the plot.

Me and the ghost that haunts me try to go through the main door and go outside. On the bottom floor I find a laboratory filled with glass vials full of mutagenic compounds. I touch one. It's in a glass ball with an orange fog inside that grows as I hold it. It shatters and for a while as I pull my hands away I have too many fingers; then they become a hand inside my hand. When I speak a foreign language (which is suddenly easier) a second smaller hand emerges from the centre of my hand. Its fingers are too small and delicate, it doesn't emerge far enough to be able to grip anything. I can't use it. But I love how it feels when it comes out and it makes me happy even though it's meant to be body horror.

I try to show it to my flatmates but we're distracted--war has been declared. The Germans aren't far away. We talk about how we'll be safe. Our giant towers are secure. They have thick walls, you have to cross a bridge to get to us.

Then we remember seeing German aeroplanes with big bombs. Then we remember our country has them too. We remember we're on the third floor not far from the exit. Then we remember how much structure will bury us if everything collapses. We remember we're on the border, we remember that there's one bridge out, and it faces towards Germany, and is full of ghosts.

A day passes and we've done nothing but remember things.

I go next door through the secret door to see Dracula. He and his servant are gone. This worries us. Dracula is old and knows when to leave. I start packing a bag of things we'll need to get past the ghosts. I also pack a tarot deck as my one source of entertainment because it can tell me everything. A day passes and we've done nothing but prepare.

The next day my wife shows me all my books and things I love and asks why I've packed none of them. I hold my ground and say they're already lost and we have to travel light. Advice is coming through the radio now. Tips on how to make special lamps for the journey that won't attract enemy fire as we escape. A day passes and we've done nothing but learn and make.

We've tipped up our home for materials. The communal areas are a mess now. Trash and clothes and mess is piling up. The old divisions of who owns what are breaking down. We are learning to love each other. But a day has still passed.

It's hard to work out how we'll escape. One friend grabs a copy of the Communist Manifesto so he can seem more scary as the enemy fears communism. One friend tries to ferment Revolution in the tower so we all leave at once and can't all be killed at once. One friend plans how they'll negotiate with the Germans.

I learn to love people better and I hang out in Dracula's shop and his servant's room, thinking about her and how I wish she was still here but I hope she's safe. I talk to the ghost who's haunting me. We're becoming friends now. A day passes.

The next day the Germans are outside. My ghost tries to disable a tank, but there's too many.

There's not really an escape route. They've declared that our towers are filled with spies and enemy combatants. They issue a demand for surrender. If we hand over the spies and traitors and let them demolish our tower, there'll be no need to fight. But meeting those demands would mean that we'd be letting them kill everyone and destroy everything.

One of my friends says they'll never kill us all because there's too many of us--demolishing our tower would be like executing the whole population of a city. But the Germans keep telling us that this is what they will do and that they're justified in doing it.

I check on our neighbours because nobody's seen them in a few days. An older couple. They've closed up the door to their flat and sell us the use of their toilet before we go. They're not worried, they don't have a reason why they're not worried. They just think things will blow over if they do what they've always done.

We leave, in a line, across a narrow metal bridge that's covered in barricades, towards an enemy who has promised to kill us but control the only way out. I am glad we're together. We kiss, we hug, we tell each other deep and personal secrets.

We love one another very deeply now, and that doesn't make us safer.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

A lot of this dream doesn't need explaining in the current context.

Maybe the hand bit is worth dwelling on. I've recently learned about a gender affirming surgery in America that doesn't end with you having a vagina. You can literally just have your genitals nullified and what you're left with is still a sexual organ but without the parts I dislike about that whole thing. I've seen it on offer in America. It's literal body horror for most people but I am horrified I'll never be able to even consider it. I'm horrified by what's happening in America that means I can no longer visit safely and the surgery may not be available for much longer. I'm not afraid of the ghosts, or Dracula, or body horror, or mess. I'm worried about what will happen when it's destroyed. I'm worried that despite the ocean between us, Britain is culturally very close to the front lines. I'm scared for my friends in America.

I hope we're relearning love. I doubt that it can help but we need it.

I wake up slowly in the morning. The dream still feels more real than writing it down for a long while. I promise myself I'll send it to <name deleted> and my astrology group as soon as it's finished because I feel like that may be important for someone and I no longer want to wait. I worry about my sheer arrogance thinking I may have something worth sharing with others, but I...

--Lena

EDITOR'S NOTE

"Name deleted" is me; when Lena tried to send the dream, she couldn't find the World Dream Bank online, and feared it was kaput--along with, maybe, me. But next time she looked, WDB and I were back. Search engine bias? Local censorship? Who knows?

Not gone yet! Repeat after me: "I won't vanish without a fight."

--Chris Wayan