Death crept into Richard Heward’s bedroom cautiously. He stopped to the side of the bed & took the pouch of dream dust from his robe, grabbed a heaping handful. His fingers turned gold & some dust sift through his fingers onto the floor.

Death looked at Richard & crouched in front of him. He held his hand in front of his face, & with a soft breath, blew the dust into Richard’ face. Richard smiled as his dream began. Satisfied with a job well done Death turned & walked out of the room. “This is so easy,” he said to himself as he looked at his list to see where he had to go next.

Richard dreamt he was at the top of the Empire State Building looking out over New York City. For years he had been dreaming of visiting New York, but could never afford it. Now he was there. He looked out at the city with a smile & locked his fingers through the chain link fence. He inhaled the wind, closed his eyes, & began his climb up the fence. He pulled himself over the top & leapt out over the city, his arms spread wide, as if he was doing a swan dive.

The wind whipped past his face & through his hair as the ground rapidly approached. He opened his eyes & immediately they began to tear. He felt his stomach rise to his throat & churn with nausea. His mind warned him to wake up before he hit the ground, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t. Richard screamed as the ground approached but was silenced as he slammed into the concrete.

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