“Hendricks heard the whisper in his mind, the tickle of fingers running through his hair, like his wife’s kisses on his bare skin in the night. It ran through him with a powerful shiver, woke him from a dead sleep, the sound of his name from lips that he couldn’t see or even really hear. Lafayette Hendricks … He sat upright on the thin mattress, feeling like he’d missed a step and freefallen into wakefulness from a dream. He sat there, breathing hard, shaking off the effects of it. “Bad ...dream?” Duncan asked. “Yeah,” Hendricks said, running a hand over his face. “Felt like I was falling.” “Freud said falling dreams were sexual,” Duncan said. “Something about not getting enough, I think.” “Fuck you and fuck Freud,” Hendricks said, the malaise of their earlier argument coming back to him now. “Probably not something a guy who was getting enough would think about, fucking a demon and a dead guy.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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