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Asleep at the Reality

Max stood on the balcony overlooking the city; he was standing there, staring, and at the moment he felt like a superhero. Watching over his city. He half-expected to hear a scream for help and then off he goes to do another good deed. A cigarette was in his lips, though it wasn't lit. 

He had gotten up from the bed a few moments ago, something in a dream had awoken him. And he couldn't get back to sleep, so he slipped into khakis and came out here, to have a smoke while he thought.

The french doors opened and Maggie strolled out; she was dressed in a night-shirt which declared "Angel of The Morning. Devil of The Night". 

"What's the matter, hun?" Maggie asked. She came up behind him and lay her head on his shoulder. 

"I hate sleep," Max said.

"Those visions bothering you?"

Max lit up the cigarette and took a puff and said, "Not just that, it's images as well, they flash through my head. Like maggots crawling on meat."

Mags pulled up beside him, leaning her back against the balcony. She could see the look on his face, telling her that while he was here, his mind was off in other pockets of realities.

"In another version of myself I think I lived a relatively normal life. When I went to sleep I had forgetful dreams. I really think I did. I really can't remember though, although once in a while I do get these flashbacks. I think they're mine," Max said. 

Mags said nothing but put an arm on his shoulder, could feel the minor tremors in his body.

"My memories are fragmented and sometimes I remember things that I don't even know whether I did or not," he said. He faced her. "I'm just afraid that if I sleep and wake up one morning that you were just a piece of forgotten dream."

"Oh Max," she said. "I'm here with you right now. Sure there are times when the shifts take us elsewhere but we do manage to find each other. Our destiny and our paths are so intertwined that if one of us gets lost, the other will find us."