"We were on an island--I don't know why; it must have been after a boat wreck--and..."

"What does it matter why? This is a dream," he said. He was still reading the morning paper but with one ear and half a smile turned in her direction.

"Well it doesn't matter, I was just saying..."

"Embellishing," he corrected.

"Look, it's my fucking dream," she said and refused to say a word more.

That night they both fell into a deep sleep and their own dreams.