Hill looked at the man, a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind in an instant, as if uncertain whether what was before him was reality or a dream. Foolishly, Hill reached out towards the fire, the scorching flames burning his palm momentarily, the intense pain snapping him back to consciousness.
It wasn't a dream.
That night wasn't a dream, but absolute reality. On that stormy night, the man truly descended upon him, arriving in a way that Hill could not comprehend.
A visitor in the nightmare.
Hill wanted to say something, but there was too much he wished to say, stuck in his throat, only able to utter a meaningless whimper, like a wounded beast lamenting, or desperate people crying.
The intense grief almost shattered Hill's sanity; everything he cherished and loved fell apart in the wake of the man's arrival.
The silence between them lasted a long time; the man patiently waiting, enjoying it.
