“That was John’s first clue that he was dreaming. For some bizarre reason, he seemed to always dream in slow motion. The sky was an odd, and unnatural, shade of bright green, as well—which was also a really big hint. John was standing on Broadway, back in New York, amidst the usual throng of tourists and hopeful actors and actresses. All equally wide-eyed and naive. This was a strange dream for John, because he never went to Broadway. It was outside his precinct, so work never sent him there, an...d the whole “happy, glittery lights” thing never seemed to sit right with him… And then, of course, there were all the damned peacocks. In exasperation, Dream-John forced out a calming breath, slid his hands through his hair and waited for something to happen. It always did. Being aware that he was dreaming, he knew the fastest way to wake up from it was to allow it to generate whatever imagery his mind had cooked up. Sometimes it was an amusingly bad put-together monster from the latest horror movie, or it was a knight on horseback to challenge him to a duel—of knitting.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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