Conditional Reality

The giant was completely covered with tattoos. We found his body washed up on our island’s shore while scavanging for clams one morning. Following ancient practice, we skinned the giant and cut his hide into pieces, then rigged a ship with those pieces. We set sail the next day. That evening, as the waves tossed our craft in the darkness, we were inundated with dreams of life as a giant. Our feet crushed the Earth. Our hands eclipsed the sun. Our brains looped endlessly with tales of massive meals. We awoke sobered and disoriented. We tactfully avoided all neighboring islands.