A Dream -- Tuesday 22 September

I'm dancing on the bridge over Islington's river, Northern Soul tunes echoing from the clouds like secrets whispered by gods. I spin around, Enkidu's words from Tablet VII swirling in my mind: "The sun god Shamash... had condemned me to die..." The sun peeks through, casting a golden net upon the water, each mesh a pulsating 'A' in Euler's identity. Suddenly, the river becomes a cosmic dance floor, and I'm Neil Gehrels Swift Observatory, swooping down to process encrypted data as it flows by.