I hear it from the inside of something which is not a dream, which is different from a dream, and the sound gets louder and louder, and I want it to stop, but it does not. A white crack opens and there is light streaming in, and even if I squeeze my eyes shut the light just gets stronger. The roaring sound pushes me down and fills my head, and then I have to open my eyes, and I see the helicopter’s searchlight sweep down the ridge, and its rear lights, and the pressure of the air from the rotor blades makes the treetops above me thrash against each other. All the space around me undulates and swirls, and I am lifted up and sink again, like a carpet in A Thousand and One Nights, and it is night now, I remember that. And then the roar grows fainter as the helicopter follows the hill on its way down and makes an arc around the hospital block before landing, and then it disappears. I lie perfectly still. I know I am freezing, that the cold is just about to grab me, but if I do not move I can keep it at bay, let it stay out in my body and away from that which is me.
