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Spacetime Flies When You're

Max nestled his head in the pillow as Mags reached over and switched off the bedside lamp. "Night sweetie," she said.

Max murmured back to her and felt sleep drag him down quick.

He opened his eyes and was inside a tent, dawn light faint through the fabric, the smell of gunpowder and trees, howls and shouts getting closer.

Max ran through a mantra designed to confirm that he wasn't dreaming. Checked his chronometer; it had only been seven minutes since he had gotten into bed.

"Bugger," he said to himself.