[ She crams his sand castle into her mouth, and John shuts his eyes. He exhales a breath. He could laugh or cry, again; they really blur together, in moments like this.

He does not want to know if the ocean dreams. ]

I was coming to bed in a minute. [ Muttered, like a joke. ] It turned out to be a long minute.

[ More solidly, he says: ] Everyone's very interested in dreams, here. They dreamed the world into what it is. I think I can relate... I think mine are just as bad. But I can't say it's much fun living in someone else's.

If I'm going to be stuck in somebody's nightmare, better the devil you know, right?