The howl of the bedside clock-radio carves through your dreams like a buzz-saw through butter, and you are awake. In another place. Never mind the bright yellow sunlight that flecks your pillow and warms your face; you are rudely awake, and resent it. Gah! You roll onto your side, cantilever your legs over the side of the bed and plant your feet squarely on the carpet. You rub your face. Massage...