the sliding glass door

i saw a child of maybe three, a boy with curly black hair and an innocent face, running towards me from the other side of a clean curved piece of glass inside a curved wall. it was clear to me that i was inside some sort of fancy room and he, out. he did not stop as he ran at the glass. his face made contact at the cheek and stuck, while the rest of his body rose effortlessly from the ground. his neck was bent to facilitate a position of flying, and he smiled as he waved his limbs. i was quite delighted. it became clear to me that the glass was a door that could slide, and i stepped forward and pressed a red button on the wall. the glass began to slide, but the boy was not carried to the left along with it. he stayed in the middle of the opening while the glass slid along his chubby cheek. he was still flying and smiling. before the edge of the door reached him

i woke up.