17
I stood in the familiar well-lit pub of my past dream. Allie sat in the same chair with the same half-filled tumbler in front of her. The revolver again lay on the table.
I steadied myself. This wasn’t my first pony ride and I wouldn’t let the memory of a long-dead gunslinger get to me again. “Should I just wake up now or are we going to talk?” I asked her.
Her eyebrows crashed down, but she gestured to the seat opposite her. I walked over to the table with the goggle-covered eyes of Allie ever on me and took a seat. The room was quiet except for the sound of my controlled breathing. My eyes kept wandering over the empty tavern looking for a clue as to why I was here. Maybe there wasn’t even a reason.
“You’re wondering where we are,” Allie guessed as she grasped the glass. T
