Something odd was happening during the night, the resultant outcome extremely vivid dreams (some rearrangement of the vase of flowers, mostly tulips [which was how he thought of reality, and therefore memory] which reversed itself ever so slightly, although never completely, in the morning, like a glass half-full of water being picked up and set down on the opposite side of the night stand by a ghost, leaving him with a vague sense of having been manipulated by internal and external forces to which he had never been formally introduced).