A diptych of Knaldmand, pregnant and in human clothes showing his belly, on left he is jumping and on right he is standing.

It had a dream. It isn’t used to dreams. At least not these kinds of dreams.

Human dreams.

Before, It would dream about green meadows, of being ridden around, of things that had happened.

Not anymore.

Now It dreams about things that might happen, imaginary things. Things that can’t happen in the waking world. Impossible things.

Like being pregnant.

It had a dream that It was pregnant. It was just prancing around, with it its pregnant belly out for all to see. It was weird, being pregnant, but it also felt good.

It felt right.

It felt like the Waking world is the wrong world and that in the Dreaming It can be right, It can be whole. Whole with its pregnant belly and green hair.

It wonders if maybe It has had it wrong all along. That the Dreaming is the Waking and the Waking is the Dreaming.

It shakes that thought away. It can’t be. It remembers going to sleep and dreaming about being pregnant. It has to be a dream. It has to.

Because if this is the Dreaming then what is the dream It just had?