Reaching up, Carrie thumped the symbol and stood back expectantly. The recess didn't open nor move even slightly. "Oh, come on." She scanned the rest of the meaningless signs and pressed them up and down the line randomly, then in sequence, then in patterns. She tried hitting them hard and pressing them gently. "Open up! I want to wake up now. I need to spend a penny." The motionless face of the recess seemed to mock her. "Now you're being really annoying."
She drummed on the symbols, the walls, the recess, and the floor until, an uncomfortably long time later, she gave up. Up and down the corridor all was still and silent. This dream was crazy. She vowed never to drink after dinner again. And maybe even before dinner. Or while eating.
Wondering what to do next, she rested her hand against the recess. As her palm made contact the barrier disappeared, sending her tumbling through an open entrance.
Her knees struck the floor and she threw her hands out while screwing her eyes shut against a glaring white light, much brighter than the soft glow of the corridor. She opened her eyes a slit, then immediately closed them again. Her dream had turned into a nightmare. Her brief glimpse had told her she was in a cream ceramic room, and at its centre squatted a large, bronze, hard-shelled, many jointed, bug-eyed thing. Carrie swallowed and, with a sense of inevitability, looked over her shoulder towards the opening she had fallen through. It was no longer there.
"Wake up now, please," she squeaked. Squinting ahead once more, a faint hope formed in her. Maybe the creature wasn't alive? Maybe it was a statue?
Ten pairs of legs started simultaneously into motion. The thing scuttled towards her, and Carrie scuttled backwards on hands and feet, never taking her eyes from the monster, until she reached the corner of the room. "Dream be over, dream be over." She pasted herself into the unyielding wall. The huge bug approached, dripping mucus from its jaws as they opened, the claws at the ends of its legs tapping against the ceramic floor. When its head was a short distance from Carrie's face, the creature stopped. She was entertaining a fleeting thought that there was a tiny, remote chance she wouldn't be eaten, when another set of jaws, smaller, sharper and infinitely more vicious, appeared from the gaping maw.
Carrie closed her eyes and waited for the end, wondering if it was possible to feel pain in dreams.
"Thank you for coming. Would you please take a seat?"