" "You should go to sleep too," she added."I may," I said, wondering how she could think about sleep right now. "Sweet dreams." Hmmm, that's a thought..." she said softly."What?" I asked."What if I dream about what happened earlier?" she asked."Now that's a frightening thought," I sighed. "Why?" she asked. "Think about it. It's just a dream. Dreaming about stuff isn't the same as doing it." That's true," I admitted."So, you're okay with me having a dream about us?" she asked. I laughed. I passed Lisa as I went toward the stairs. "Tell Billy hello for me," I said. She just caught the back of my leg with her toes as her foot lashed out. I laughed and went upstairs. I was currently working on assembling a plastic model car. I remember it was a 1965 Ford Mustang convertible. Of course it was red. As I broke the parts off the rods and glued them carefully in place, a plan began to form in my mind.I got my chores -- and the Mustang -- done in plenty of time. While we ate dinner that. More

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