And as I ran, as I kept running, I noticed that the wave that had crested over the hill was made of deeper and deeper water. Every time I look forward, the beach seemed longer, so I would try to run closer to the outside edge of the rocks. I looked back, and the water was getting closer, deeper, more powerful in its white spray -- a swirling, leaping, downwards pull that, if it didn't drown me, would surely smash me and hold me down against the rocky beach. So I'd run closer to the edge to try to give myself more time to run. And the beach seemed longer, and my legs seemed weaker, and the water got closer, closer, more powerful -- the wave kept coming and pouring over the hill as if the entire island was being pulled into the sea. The closer I'd run to the edge of the beach, the higher and more jagged the wall of rock on my left would seem, the longer the beach ahead of me would seem, the weaker my legs beneath me would seem, the more brutal and assured the death to my right would seem, the more assured the death to my left would seem, the more assured the death ahead of me would seem, the more assured the death beneath me would seem, the more assured the death to my right would seem, the more assured the death to my left would seem, the more assured the death ahead of me would seem, the more assured the death beneath me would seem, the more assured the death to my right would seem.
Death and weakness and fear creeping in from all corners, bolstering the ranks of one another.

I was surrounded, running to nowhere from a great nothing, forever.
and then I woke up.

this dream is terrifying because life is terrifying because this dream is terrifying.