you walk slowly. with self precedence you take in stride the looks that seem to linger long after you pan their _____. but something, you can't shake. and look, ___________. stop. turn. turn in all positive directions, and line the clock that spins as fast as our life, you are nothing out of your ordinary. the extroardinary. you keep walking, and look over at him.

"what is it? "

"nothing."

"it's something"

"yes. it's something"

it was that look. turns that continued to linger even long past and like everything else he'd ever done, that stayed with you. something you couldn't shake.

"i'd like to be there, with you,"

"where?"

"there." as you point to the floating crane above the city skyline.

"oh."

you wake, staring against the thickness of the air that surrounds you.

"remember when we were here that long time, looking for those pigs that didn't exist?

he smiles. "yes."

"and how we kept asking everyone if they knew where they were, but no one did and they looked at us all crazy?"

he smiles. again. "yeah."

you sigh the times away. and you see that look. that miniature in those eyes that you grew to accept, then love. and at your last desperate attempt.