Sitting there on the edge of the bed felt surreal for Michael.  Still grasping in his mind that she here living in his house.  Resting a comforting hand on her blankets in the approximate location of her leg.  Unable to recall the last time he dreamed something so pleasant, he says “Such a wonderful dream.  Do you always have them? “ even in a melancholy mood just moments ago, his smile returns instantly just looking into her eyes.  He adds, "Some day I would like to hear some more of your dreams."<br/><br/>Her question caught him off guard.  He debates within himself if this is something he should or want to share.  Writing or in this case writing with a partner is something deeply personal and provides some healing.  He would be sadden to lose his one outlet from the utter feeling of being alone.  Quickly deciding that he wanted to share this with her and likely she would see right through his lie anyway.  He was not very good at it.   “I like to write, but..but it is not like writing a novel.  Kind of hard to explain, really I am writing a story with another person.”  He left out that this other person was a woman.<br/>