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"
I'm not just arguing about a matter of opinion," he said.
The thing's killing me."
"
"
"
Dreams?"
If you call them dreams. Night after night. Vivid!--so
vivid . . . . this--" (he indicated the landscape that went
streaming by the window) "seems unreal in comparison! I can
scarcely remember who I am, what business I am on . . . ."
He paused. "Even now--"
"
"
"
"
"
"
The dream is always the same--do you mean?" I asked.
It's over."
You mean?"
I died."
Died?"
Smashed and killed, and now, so much of me as that dream was,
is dead. Dead forever. I dreamt I was another man, you know,
living in a different part of the world and in a different time.
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