Yesterday I had an evening nap on my futon, and I think it's something I won't do again. I fell asleep while reading about Heidegger, shortly after brushing up on some legal issues. The effect was that I dreamed that I was asleep on the page of an enormous book in which the writing was in German and also upside-down, and there were a few people trying to slam the book shut with me inside of it. Like, splat. When I woke up, the futon had not slammed shut on top of me, but I had to leap right off of it. The whole thing reminded me of Lady Cottington's Pressed Fairy Book, where spectres of the imagination really are captured on paper (pictures above and below). I recall one of Stifter's references to a "Fee aus Frankfurt;" in my opinion, the best thing to do with fairies is to let them flit about unmolested.
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