Corwin's Dream

In Corwin's dream, he walks down steep subway steps, then there's darkness as decades of his life zoom past on fast trains, only his face in the repeating glass at different ages and old scenes, standing very still on the station in rapt attention, then every detail of Corwin's vision forgotten in a rush of redirected destination, quarreling misinformation, trust the wrong arrow, dream running too long, unsettled to daybreak's restless wake, what was it then that felt so sad, that felt so gone?