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.. no, not a hand... Bobby’s hand. I don’t know why I knew it was Bobby’s hand, but I just felt it.I went to his room, where he had elected to sleep on a mattress on the floor. He said it reminded him of his cell back at St. [redacted].He was asleep. I felt his hand move up my side. It was crazy.“Bobby!” I said, loudly.The hand vanished as he lifted his head.“Huh?” he asked, obviously groggy. “What’s wrong?”“I think you were dreaming,” I said.“What?” He sat up. It was warm and he hadn’t been. Now, what is this? Oh, look! She’s asking him to head back to her hotel. Say no Nick. Nick is actually yelling this at the images of his memories flying by. Yell louder! Haha, silly boy… Vanessa is breaking down what’s left of your pitiful defense against her. In the other world, he’s actually just counting three Monarch cigarettes left. He needs more, I think. I’m quite sure now. Here comes some more. The stage is being set for a new act. They walked down… what street is this, God Nick didn’t. Very sensibly, Sam had drawn his gun as soon as we entered the saloon.The gunman's pistol went flying across the room, and he fell to the floor in agony. The bartender had already sent his swamper for the barber, who did most of the town's doctoring. As it turned out, both the wounded men bled to death before the barber could help them. Sol sent for the undertaker, and Sam and I left, since there wasn't anything else for us to contribute.We decided to head home, since the killings had kind of. I sat in the car as my husband checked into the motel and then we parked and entered our room. It isn't a spectacular place but nice and clean inside with a queen sized bed. We had brought a bottle and some soda with us and I made a drink as hubby sat on the bed. He turned on the TV and turned off the lights so as to have just enough light for what he had planned. It was around 9 PM and after our first drink, I went to the bathroom and removed all my clothes but had taken a pair of high.
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