He mistrusted all of that. He said the right dreams for a man in peril were dreams of peril and all else was the call of languor and of death. He slept little and he slept poorly. He dreamt of walking in a flowering wood where birds flew before them he and the child and the sky was aching blue but he was learning how to wake himself from just such siren worlds. Lying there in the dark with the uncanny taste of a peach from some phantom orchard fading in his mouth. He thought if he lived long enough the world at last would all be lost. Like the dying world the newly blind inhabit, all of it slowly fading from memory.
The protagonist in Cormac McCarthy's "The Road" grapples with distrust and fear, believing that dreams of danger are more appropriate for someone in his precarious situation. His sleep is restless and minimal, and though he dreams of a beautiful, serene place filled with life and color, he struggles to escape the allure of such visions. He recognizes these dreams as distractions that divert him from the harsh realities he faces.
As...
