Abigail sniffed a couple of times and pulled a face. She rubbed her nose, not registering that she hadn't really seen her hand pass under her face. She didn't register that she was once in a car. Now she was in a basement, and it was muddy, and that was how things went. In that strange, self-rationalising surreality that accompanied a dream, she also knew she had to wander around the basement and take a good look around. She didn't feel her feet hit the ground. She also knew that eventually she'd have to go out of the basement and up those steps, but it couldn't be done until she had taken a good look around first, because that's how it went.