“Paul, you look exhausted. Have you been getting any sleep at all?”
“I sleep plenty. But the dreams . . . they’re so draining. Sleep just isn’t refreshing me these days.”
“Still dreaming about the Mysterious Blonde?”
“Yes. And sometimes . . . .”
” . . . sometimes I see her when I’m awake.”
“Paul, I . . . .”
“Linnea, do you think I’m losing my mind?”
“You do think so. And I think so, too.”
“I’ve heard it said that if a person is sane enough to ask if he’s losing his mind, the answer is usually no.”
“I used to believe that, but this . . . this . . . thing that’s happening to me . . . . “
“Did you ever stop to think that there could be a much more mundane reason for these dreams?”
“Such as?”
“Well, you do have a certain . . . marked fascination with blondes. Maybe you’re simply . . . .”
“Fantasizing? No. It isn’t like that. Yes, sometimes if I see an attractive woman, I do dream and even daydream about her, but this is different.”
“How so?”
“I have feelings for this woman.”
“Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me you’re falling in love with a woman who isn’t even real?”
“No, it’s more like . . . it’s more like . . . I was ALREADY in love with her before I even dreamed about her.”
