Night terrors: the old hayloft

While attempting to quiet my skittering breath, my attention was gently but forcibly held by the view along the old hayloft: the vista of the ancient wooden framework and farm implements and divers other arcane miscellania was as remembered, and yet curiously twisted into some kind of spiral tunnel, and somehow multiplied, going on and on into an undefined distance apparently illuminated somewhere near the infinity-point. The universe stopped spinning when the outer door was hurled open and a heavy uneven tread accompanied by ragged breathing took command of the space below. It began again with the first lumbering footfall on the ladder, and my own frantic crawl down that surreal passage.