Asleep - the word sticks in his mind rather than finishing his sentence, snagged on some hook shaped like certainty. The world seems far too real to be a dream; he can smell the scent of the ocean on the breeze, the fleeting taste of fresher air, and the sharp, pungent exhaust overtop it all. He can feel the cool morning atmosphere, carrying along the promise of unseasonable heat, and the weight of his uniform and the gun on his back.
And even without all of that to convince him, it's difficult enough to overcome the staunch position of his better sense.
"That's impossible. Besides, even dreams end, eventually. Nobody can have all the time they want."
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Asleep - the word sticks in his mind rather than finishing his sentence, snagged on some hook shaped like certainty. The world seems far too real to be a dream; he can smell the scent of the ocean on the breeze, the fleeting taste of fresher air, and the sharp, pungent exhaust overtop it all. He can feel the cool morning atmosphere, carrying along the promise of unseasonable heat, and the weight of his uniform and the gun on his back.
And even without all of that to convince him, it's difficult enough to overcome the staunch position of his better sense.
"That's impossible. Besides, even dreams end, eventually. Nobody can have all the time they want."