It had been slower, apparently thicker than any red he'd ever seen, and looked like liquid silk, dark crimson in colour, and nearly opaque. The taste ...ad been... somewhere between spicy and sweet and something else besides, something subtle that seemed (padon the pun) on the tip of his tongue, but refused to identify itself.Uncleaving his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Eric reflected that it tasted like something had crawled in there and died.Had mom had any of that shit? He didn't think. She gave me a quick hug, grabbed my hand, and led me into the tableau. I felt strangely underdressed in just a tatty pair of jeans and a tee shirt. If this was some kind of costume party, Zoe should have had the decency to tell me before I came. You idiot! I chided myself. You’re dreaming! Dreaming, right… Wait, dreaming? Shouldn’t I be able to do whatever I want then? I closed my eyes and tried to think up a new outfit, but when I opened them again I was still the same. It seems that. More

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