The nightmare didn’t come as any great surprise, but the timing was lousy. Lynn needed a good nights sleep; she wasn’t going to get it. As was her routine when the dream came, she hauled out her in-line skates and strapped them on. It didn’t matter that it was three a.m. and dark out. She had to burn this off. TSA agents at the airport thought she was crazy to pack in-line skates, but they were as important to Lynn as a stiff shot of Scotch was to a Vietnam Veteran. Without them she might shoot herself.
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