[ It's the habit of old men to snooze after lunch, which is what Break had been indulging in when she knocked. Sleep is, and always has been, an uncertain proposition for him: the promise of sweet, restful oblivion, balanced against the possibility of nightmares. This afternoon, he is dreaming of Paris, the sound of explosions and tens of millions of people screaming —
Thank you, Exsilium, for giving him more things to have bad dreams about, as if he didn't have enough.
Thus it is he awakens with a start, thus she might hear him cry "Hah!"
...
A little while later, he appears at the door, flinging it open. He is wide-eyed and haggard. ]
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Thank you, Exsilium, for giving him more things to have bad dreams about, as if he didn't have enough.
Thus it is he awakens with a start, thus she might hear him cry "Hah!"
...
A little while later, he appears at the door, flinging it open. He is wide-eyed and haggard. ]
What is it —