Here's the opening of a fairy tale, you will say.

But when I am asleep my city's very real; and even now that I am awake I could draw you a map of it, though I could not name its streets.
That's my town's one blemish.

Its streets are nameless.

It has taken a long while in the building, ever since my boyhood; and indeed the work's not finished yet, nor do I think it ever will be finished till I die, since my brain's its architect.

When I was asleep but now, I discovered a new villa, and an avenue of trees, and a tavern with red blinds which I had never remarked before.