Then I ran through
the crowd searching and calling: "Emmy! Emmy!" Meanwhile, I thought
that I should be heard calling in my sleep, that Lucia would hear me. I
passed by trees and verdure, observing everything sharply and
distinctly. Busily absorbed in my quest I murmured to myself: "Yes! I
see it distinctly - autumn sun on elm leaves - small green apples. I
can remember their position, but I must have Emmy, - Emmy!"
Then I saw a closed door, and I pointed to it with my finger, saying:
She is there! if I open this door I shall see her!
I opened the door and saw - a slaughter house. Pieces of meat, a floor
streaming with blood, men slaughtering, a disgusting stench - horrible!
a demon trick to hinder me.
Profound disappointment. Well-nigh despair. I sobbed convulsively,
calling "Emmy!" Meanwhile, again the thought: "I shall find the marks
of my tears on waking."
I saw a piece of paper and wrote upon it with my finger dipped in
blood: "I was here in my dream"; with a vague hope that this might
serve as proof, one of the half-considered ideas that one sometimes has
in these dreams.
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