Mar 09, 2008 21:00
In the dream, he was talking to Dempsey, to Richard Dempsey, in the garden of his parent's old house in Wimbledon, and they were grown men, but, somehow, they were playing Soldiers. They were running and hiding behind bushes and in trees. They were shooting each other with pretend guns, and they were grown ups, but Adam felt Wes' age, no older. He was running and shouting, in the dream. In the dream, he'd never been to Serbia, and he wasn't afraid, and...
He jolted awake, sprawled on the couch in the rec-room, bathed in cold sweat which stuck his t-shirt across his chest. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He must have been getting soft...complacent. He must have been forgetting. It had been a month.
The book that he'd been reading before he'd fallen asleep slipped and fell, hit the floor. Two Cheers for Democracy by Forster. He'd read it in University, but it was always going to remind him of Dempsey, now...of Richard, and Sandpiper, and Serbia.
He swallowed, ran his fingers over the page that the book was pen to and imagined a microdot on every fullstop. Fifteen years. Fifteen years was such a long time.
If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country.
temperance brennan,
adam carter,
lucy pevensie,
jane lipton,
coraline jones,
colin pollock