Usually I have difficulty bringing my dreams to mind, but my last dream of Dave and me approaching a bright and shining city won't leave my mind. Looking downward from a hill we didn't know we'd climbed was an absolutely breathtaking sight, something like a scene from one of those old time fold-out Christmas cards which brought out our childhood wonder. But this was real, all the wonders to behold from our solitary vantage point, where for a brief time we were the only two people in the world.
The spell was interrupted by an ordinary villager, who had strung the barbed wire across our path of dreams, and as a further deterrent held in his hand what I now identify as a mace, with all its flanges and knobs. I still see it. It looked like this, but the handle was much longer:
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