When the multitudes had dispersed and I was alone, by superhuman efforts
I contrived to wriggle on my stomach to the foot of the ascending
stairway, but not having sufficient strength to wriggle off on arrival
at the top, my long-dreaded horror of being sucked under the barrier,
where moving stairways disappear, was realised.
By now immune to pain, I regarded the next process (akin to being passed
through a mangle) as child's play. To my amazement, after a few minutes
amongst giant cog-wheels, I again found the light on the down-going
staircase, which precipitated me to the spot from which I had started.
Having thrice performed this revolution, by which time I was as flat as
a pancake, I was eventually scraped off by a porter and upbraided for
joy-riding.
Finding that those rebukes left me unmoved, for I was practically
lifeless, certainly boneless, and, to their horror, ticketless, they
folded me up and put me in a drawer pending the arrival of the police.
I was still there when the dream mercifully stopped.
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