Finn sat in the corner of the alleyway, shivering. The shadows on the walls scared him and he did not want to move. His wide, olive colored eyes betrayed his fear and looked for an escape, but there was none. He knew he was dreaming, but how could he wake up? He closed his eyes, wishing he were home. Home: where his dog and his family were; where he would be safe. What wisdom could be found in an unnatural thing such as a dream?<br/><br/>But then, he remembered what he had read about these sort of dreams. You can create and wish anything. 'Maybe,' he thought. 'If I wish for me to be home, I'll be home.' But then, his imagination was already running wild and he somehow conjured up an ocean beach house. He opened his eyes, and there it was: the vast blue ocean, the sound of seagulls crying, the sound of the water crashing onto the shore, and the experience of his shoes sinking into sand. It was all so beautiful. . .and lonely. 'Maybe it would work for people, too' He closed his eyes and tried to picture a friend. . .