I dreamed I was showing off the Rita omnibus to someone. There were pages with adaptations of entirely unrelated books running in tiny parallel panels, to fill space and add texture. And a moment of crazily swirling along the tool-assisted sigil at the end of the book, twisting and turning it to keep the line being followed going across the center of my field of view.
There was also something about a drive to get to the airport. It's gone missing from my head.