I dreamt I was flying last night. I looked down on the new station, then flew to the old station. Though I was far above, I saw inside as if I were there. The lab was blanketed in fungus, and white tendrils stretched out to the stairs. The alien mass that had consumed Bob was consuming the old station. I woke up.

I walked to the kitchen and got some water, then went back to bed. I found it difficult to fall asleep; when I did, I had another bad dream. I dreamt I was in bed awake, and something was tapping at my window. The sound was like a small coin hitting a beer glass. Three quick taps, a pause, three more taps. The pattern repeated. I wasn't able to move; I couldn't even turn my head to look at the window. I hope I'll sleep better tonight.