Monday morning had a good start for Anderson. He woke up without any nightmares. He had, in fact, dreamt of Albert Einstein. It was just a wonderful dream. And very colourful as well, he could remember.
In the dream, they were both in Einstein's workshop inventing unimaginable robots, and it was so fun in such that all the after-dream pictures Andy had when he awakened were of smiling faces and beautiful contraptions. It was just like a child's fairytale dream.
As always, the bedside clock rang with its vibrative effect, bringing him back to the present world. Anderson was never angry with the fact that the clock always disrupted his sleep, no; for it was always a haven from all his nightmares. But this time he was angry. It had interrupted such a lovely dream.
With the fling of an arm
