[She doesn't much like sleep. There's a learning curve, she's told, a trick to separating what you thought was real from what is, and until she's mastered that, sleep - and the dreams that come with it - is something she accepts only reluctantly.
This stranger isn't really any more interesting than not-sleeping, as far as she can she, and her eyes barely flick over him.]
They'd be right. Maybe you come see me in a month or so, when it won't knock you flat on that pasty ass of yours.
reality
This stranger isn't really any more interesting than not-sleeping, as far as she can she, and her eyes barely flick over him.]
They'd be right. Maybe you come see me in a month or so, when it won't knock you flat on that pasty ass of yours.