Patricia Holland dreams. She dreams of clocks, time, sand and a woman. She dreams of the unknown woman, with white hair and purple eyes. Tonight she dreams of the house, the strange building made with many different styles of architecture from eons ago. She dreams of sand, the constand pouring sand in her jar, the clocks ticking, hundreds in each room. And she dreams of Emit, sought by all the endless and unknown to all. This would be her last dream before death claimed her and Time stopped for her.