Dream: I had to take extreme care to see that two eggs would survive a fall to earth in a spaceship, inside a large slip-case sort of book the size of an unabridged dictionary, with red leather outsides. Inside I put plastic wrapping, semi-inflated, and then inside there put the two eggs, which were insect eggs, very fragile. Chances of their survival from such a big drop were slim.
After the landing, the big book was returned to me and I opened it. During the hours up in space and the during the fall to earth, at least one of the eggs had hatched. A small, winged creature lay gasping among the plastic wrap, its body the size of my pinky and its wings close to its body. It needed water, warmth, and communication just to keep its attention on life. I took it out of the plastic and put it on the table, and shone a flashlight near it for warmth, but then considered that the light may be too bright and painful for it.
What had become of its brother? I hadn’t seen its egg the first time I rummaged through so I assumed it had not survived; the egg breaking during the process, while it was still an embryo. But on looking again I saw that it too had hatched. Its white body (lighter than the warm yellow of the other) looked dead; there was no movement. I took it out, and it too had a trace of life, but it was in much worse shape.
The dream pretty much unraveled at that point, into other fragments.