Weird. Fizz wondered absently how strong his subconscious must be to create such a detailed image. The vision was wearing an outfit; Fizz didn't even know what style it was, only that it looked like a vintage suit. The last rays of the setting sun from the window tinted everything orange, turning the man's clothes a burnt tan colour. His skin was pale, and his body slight. He didn't look all that old, either. His face was thin and effeminate, especially with that artful flop of hazel brown hair, clipped short at the sides, left long on top. Everything about his style was vintage yet, ironically, also in fashion.
Maybe Fizz remembered him from a movie poster or something? Was that where he'd conjured this vision from? The young man stared at him, his mouth slanting up in a smile. His eyes
