Turning to see who was holding her by the arms, the sight of a witch, complete with large wart-encrusted nose, straggly hair and wide-brimmed hat, too... her by surprise. A black cloak hung loose over an apparently naked body. Her breasts were long, shrivelled bags, hanging low, crowned with huge, black, leathery nipples. At her other side stood a second person dressed in a similar manner. A nervous giggle burst from Susan as the witches leered at her, holding her arms firmly behind her, pulling. The pounding throb where I had been shot all those years ago was a constant reminder that my dream was no made up fairy tale. It was far from being a concoction of a over active subconscious, it was the reliving of a moment in time in vivid color.I took a pall-mall from the much abused pack on my nightstand and lit up. I don't know if it was the nicotine or what, but there was something calming about a smoke after waking from the dream. This morning would make the one thousand seven hundred and. More

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