her name was paige, she said she was an angel, i believed her, she wrote like one. she was running the voight kampff test on me through a psychic link we had established, checking my retina responses with some sort of remote viewing, asking various questions just like the replicant test in blade runner while i slept hundreds of miles away. we were separated by a veil of melatonin, the pineal gland was always happy to engage in paige but not to let her pass.
sometimes i'd rush home from the surf and after a shower fall onto a deep sleep, hoping the angel would be in her lab conducting her experiments. i always opened up just like a ripe peach, my strange dr. seuss mind spilled its contents pouring out like a psychedelic fountain from 1969.
like all angels paige was unpredictable, she probably had commitments in heaven or something, she filed reports occasionally and i'd always enjoy reading them, sometimes i felt like i knew her really well, other times her life was mysterious and exotic.
every night i'd attempt to use dream yoga or lucid dreaming to engage deeper and penetrate the veil but i was disarmed and unable to get past the stages necessary. in the mornings i would recall the vague traces, like smoke or the perfume trail that hits you in a shopping mall as you pass a beautiful stranger, we were pirate ships in the night sailing on an ocean of dream.
she had a history, it wasn't all angelic either, it was gritty and real and there was some philosophy in the mix, between some good music and poem. i could hear some very tasteful tunes but she was like ghost, a visitation, an echo from my dreamscapes. 
people said i was crazy, angels don't exist, it's mystical mumbo jumbo, it's some strange fantasy. i heard it all but deep down i dismissed their versions of reality. 
in a matter of months i was finding my days organised around my nights, sleeping and dreaming became the sole focus in my existence. i would shorten my surfing sessions, i would make excuses not to go, i would omit the showers, cleaning my teeth, meals and reading, just get to sleep as fast as possible and soon i would just stay in bed sleeping, or perhaps move to the hammock on my balcony. i would sleep my days away and on the occasions i experienced a visitation i would attempt to make some form of contact, but it was impossible. i sunk deeper into sleep, sometimes up to 20 hours, i used various narcotics and sleep enhancers.
during this time the replicant testing became even more intense and detailed, we moved from simple straightforwards scenario's into highly complex and philosophical ones. 
i had no control over my responses, my retinas just did what they did, flickering and fluttering giving away my secrets, i was an open book. i didn't care, i was just happy to be with my angel in this dimension of endless dreamtime. occasionally other dreams would  infiltrate the experiments, i would find myself comfortable and happily thinking about the conundrums of the test, struggling to make out the details of paige's face as another dream flooded in. in this dream i was on a train, it shape-shifted into an aircraft, i was reading a magazine, the plane was half empty, or was it half full, there was a steward who offered me a drink of sparkling water. i peeked out from the window and could see a bridge, it looked like san francisco, the bay on a clear day, looking beautiful, some music came over the speakers, pink floyd 'echoes' as the plane banked and started to prepare for landing, i felt that nervous flutter that you get and then the next thing i know i'm in an english garden drinking tea with philip k dick. he's showing me his notes from something called exegesis, i look through them but it all seems familiar, it feels like the stuff i write in my blog, suddenly i can hear paige's voice asking me a scenario, it's the one i am in, she says, 'it's a beautiful afternoon, you find yourself in a garden, an english country garden drinking tea from an elegant teapot set with phillip k dick and he's showing you his life's work, it's a huge bundle of papers called exegesis, you look through them and feel something familiar, a recognition, as you read his work, you realise it's identical thematically to your own writings. what do you do?'
i drop the papers on the floor, the light breeze blows them around my feet, suddenly i am back in the lab, looking at paige who is looking at my retina.
something different happens, for the first time in my series of dreams i manage to get a spark of insight into the situation, i bring the garden back, pulling it from the void. 
back in the garden i make the papers fall upwards, they swirl around and follow their decent exactly like time flowing back on rewind, the pages rise into a pile in my hands. pkd smiles, he pours some more tea and says, 'i reached the same conclusion. it's all there, in there, i mean it's a bit random and oblique but there it is, the answer.'
i nod my head, smile and say, 'thanks man, you wrote some interesting things. thank you.'
he walks away, i watch the garden fade slightly, i bring it back, then i pull page in, at first there's a little a little resistance, she's confused and surprised, the garden seems to be unable to maintain its integrity so i make it a beach. it's still hard to make out details, but i'm getting more information, flashes as she and i wander along the shore. she seems confused by the shift, the change in environment. she starts to skip along the shoreline, and then the sky turns pink and some kind of flowers, daisies start falling down like rain and then i realise i am in her dream now. in her dream, i open my eyes.
it takes me a moment to stand up, not sure how long i slept this time, if feels like, days. many days and nights, outside its night time, i check the time, it's 11:11 night time.
i shower and boot up the computer, start filing a report, i wonder if paige will file one to.