Aren't you angry with me? You still want to hear about the nightmare after everything I've said?"Her tone showed no passion, whatsoever. "I believe it...s important that you describe the nightmare while it's fresh in your mind."There was something disturbing about the way she spoke. It was almost clinical, dispassionate, like she was a casual observer. Why was she still talking to me?"Am I one of your subjects for a paper? Is that all I am to you?" I asked, feeling a hard pebble land in the. She skipped and twirled on her balcony, the rain washing over her body.As she brushed her wet hair from her face, out of the corner of her eye, she saw lightning in the distance. She stopped and listened, waiting on the sound of the thunder. The longer the sound took, the bigger her smile was. When the thunder did finally arrive, there was no crack, only the roll. She once again raised her arms above her head, skipping and dancing in the rain. She stepped again to the edge to look down, almost. More

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