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He was unable to sleep since he was plagued by bad dreams. Max Cube lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling fan rotating. A cigarette in his hand on his chest, lit, and the smoke rising into the air as if someone signaling that trouble was near.

The clock on the wall ticked away, the second hand seemed to amplify in the night. Max was doing some serious thinking; remembering the past events and wondering about the ramifications of certain actions.

His room was dark and mysterious, no lights inside but the lights of the city cast shadowy images on the wall. Which triggered events in his mind and got him thinking again. He really didn't know what the whole purpose of this was, but he was glad that he was getting some self healing done.

He brought the cigarette to his lips and puffed away, and then he exhaled a dragon's smoke into the air, watching the swirling cloud as lights reflected upon it. The smoke showing him what the future might hold.

He smiled and then butted out the cigarette, and turned over on his side. Sleep might pay him a visit, but he highly doubted that.