If I Had Slept Longer This Story Would Have Been Better

There's this place you can go where you're not quite asleep and not quite awake. This happens very rarely for me, but when it does sometimes I can control my dreams. I can stop the action, change the scenery, the people, view it in third person, first person, slow motion, the way the director of a big budget movie can edit action he'd filmed against a bluescreen. And, yet, the dream still feels real. You become godlike in a world like this, and understand things you wouldn't comprehend in the real world. One night, in this place, I realized how it is possible how to travel faster than the speed of light. But it was gone when I woke up. I felt it going away, me waking up, trying to hold it, think about it hard enough to remember it on the outside. It is a strange and sad thing to feel a sense of loss over a dream.

This happened to me last night, I was with a girl in the dream and it was sunny outside and we were driving a convertible and I was behind the wheel for awhile, then above watching the girl and I, and suddenly a beautiful story came to me. And, half asleep, I tried to get the essence of it before I lost it, but could feel it slipping as I was writing it. So, instead of a masterpiece, you get a sentence, and no longer remembering exactly what I was supposed to do with it, I'll leave it as it is, an artifact from a place where I write better that I do here:

There are rooms in my house where I store memories.