A runnicle is an image left over from dream left in the mind at waking, an image or fact with no narrative content or context.
This information is itself a runnicle, I wake with it, and hurry to write it down to share this runnicle with the dream community.
—Robert Kelly, Annandale Dream Gazette (via Levi)
In another dream, a teeming red brick slum in some forgotten corner of Los Angeles, separated from the main part by a zone where it was always winter, I met a young man who was also dreaming, and had come to the same place. I knew I was dreaming and he affirmed that he did as well. We chatted for some time - in the dream every word was distinct, and the conversation flowed, but in the morning I could remember only the barest gist of it.
—Dzyd Bess's dad, International Rooms
My new thing is to read without knowing the author or title of what I'm reading. Trying to reproduce the feeling of a dream.
[...]I was talking about
our dream life—our subconscious—but a friend said
that she thought I'd meant the New York subway system,
ha ha. Nonetheless, I give to the neurobiologists
this first identification of a mechanism, somewhere in the brain,
I call "the turnstile." It allows our passage
into the depths. And what's the morning
—what's the clear new start—if not our exiting
back into this life through the same round gate?
—Albert Goldbarth, from "The Initial Published Discovery" (in The Kitchen Sink)