You stand motionless in front of the table. It's cold and it's difficult to sit or to stand, so you stay motionless. There is a cup on the table - half full/half empty, a casual spoon, a scrunched tissue, a drip of blood and two salted tears. A lifetime summed up in a scattering of ephemera on a table top. You look away - bare walls, empty doors - then you look back at the table. The cup has gone, as has the spoon, blood and tears. Now there is a bowl of soup, a tarnished fork and a couple of old coins. What does it mean? Is there something you should be thinking of, be aware of? But then you smile down at your empty feet and nod. It means nothing, everything means nothing. There is no rhyme and reason, no plan or destiny, no past and definitely no future. It's all an elaborate but non-fulfilling dream...just a passing dream. You raise your eyes and look once more at the table. Your hands are splayed across the table top, firm and unshaking. You are sitting and the table is empty, apart from your presence...dream fulfilled.