It was a very simple, short dream, one which consisted of a single image, in this case a visceral act. I was vomiting up copious quantities of change. There was the notion that the filth of a thousand grubby transactions was rubbed into those old coins, and I was violently curious to know how they got there. At the same time, however, it did not seem impossible to me. Possibly karmic, possibly divinatory, but definitely painful and revolting.