The face-in-the-floor nightmare: the awake floor, faceless
The awake floor is littered with gear and dirty clothes, blond hardwood with sealed seams, two throw-rugs, the bare waxed wood shiny in the windows’ snowlight, the floor neutral, faceless, you cannot see any face in the floor, awake, lying there, faceless, blank, dilated, playing beam over floor again and again, not sure all night forever unsure you’re not missing something that’s right there: you lie there, awake and almost twelve, believing with all your might.
Context
The waking aftermath: the dreamer repeats the in-dream flashlight ritual, the floor comes up faceless, and belief survives the negative result anyway. That's the haunted posture the book keeps returning to — Stice under his moving bed, the Tunnel Club rationalizing, Hal on Hamlet never doubting: you can't verify the presence, and you believe with all your might.