I am at my mother's house, where we have a basket full of presents to open. Most of the presents are small, wrapped in tissue paper printed with Chinese characters, but I have a feeling that the other ones are going to be more valuable and interesting. My mother opens a present first: it consists of two or three black-and-white sketches by sovay. They show a grizzled, one-eyed fisherman, putting out to sea at nightfall from a small (Cornish?) village. My own package turns out to contain the whole story from which those large single images were taken, in comic form. It tells how the fisherman, already shunned by the village because of his deformity, was blamed for not reporting a house fire, clearly visible from his boat as he sailed back to harbour with the dawn. Alas, it was on his blind side, so he never saw the flames.
There was much, much more to this dream, but this is all I managed to pluck from the burning.