The Dream wonders how I get through books so fast. Obviously, he doesn’t have my neighbors. I know way too much about them, without ever meeting them (although, I don’t know her name, just Brian’s, because she yells at him and he speaks softly. I like Brian). Without fail, at least twice a week they fight late at night. How they know that I’ve just turned out the light and want to go to sleep, and why that triggers their disputes, I have no idea. But that’s how one chapter becomes half a book. And how a two weeks of reading becomes three nights of reading.
Maybe I should read counselling books. Out loud.