180/365 02/18/2026

He had dreams of a barren, white waste, the ice floes extending all around him from horizon to horizon. His feet sliding on the ice and the ice cracking deep and loud. The long, seismic rumble of cracking ice, rumbling through him, the dark fissures forming as slabs stabbed toward heaven. A long, black crack appeared beneath him, and he started awake just as his dream self fell into the blackness, the night now around him in his bed, and his bowels loosing terrific, rumbling farts mistaken in dreams for cracking ice.

He gasped in the dark, stomach cramping, and marveled at the sounds his body could produce without his guidance. And before dawn, even…