She pulled her knickers up, stuffed her tits back into her bra and dashed out into the kitchen. I followed her. She was panting and breathing heavy wh...n she sat down at the kitchen table. Her lipstick was smeared and she was giggling like a schoolgirl, her mascara smudged down her face.“Linda, what the fuck’s going on?” I asked, my voice quavering with anger.“Chill out and have a drink,” she slurred then hiccupped.I noticed there was an open bottle of wine on he table. She had obviously been. How wonderful it must be to walk the shining streets of the city, to drink from its clear springs, and to idle the time with the peaceful, charming citizens.The rational part of your brain, that small fragment that knows you are dreaming even as you dream, reminds you that, beautiful though the city may be, you have never actually reached the city. You always awaken before you can, sometimes while high above the city, as you are now, and sometimes as you float downwards, ready to land and begin. More

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