My frantic, searching digits found nothing atop my head that might have caused such a sensation. It was then my imagination began to take hold of the situation and generated a possibility even more horrifying. I thought of the fact that once in this very same apartment an old woman died. I know this is as a fact because her aged sister still lives in the building, next door to my wife and I actually. What if there's a special significance behind 6am or the intimate gesture of feeling another's hair, for the spectral old maid ?
I couldn't return to sleep but instead sat for a while imagining, dreaming possibilities. Stories bubbled and churned in my brain like the vibrant, dense substance inside a lava lamp. If Wynken, Blynken, and Nod were fisherman of the night's sky I'd like to perhaps hire them out some time to sail my dreaming unconscious. I wonder what returns they'd present. I wonder what mysterious items they'd dredge from the depths of my inner-self, as unknown and as enchanting as the unfathomable depths of vast mother ocean.