“A few months before I came up here, while I was still pondering whether to come here at all, I had a dream that was so lucid I could feel my feet in my shoes and my shoes on the floor.” Adam looks up at Justine from between his fingers, they’re sitting at the formica table that the mine furnished Justine and Blake’s cottage with. It’s green and blue flecked with shimmering gold and Justine says out loud that she hates it but deep down thinks it looks like the ocean.
“Have you ever had a dream like that, Justine?” What he means to be conversational is turning into another one of their epic talks. One of those that last the whole hour and end with Justine crying and then grabbing Adam’s face in her hands. She kisses him with the same lips that she will use to greet Blake after the five o’clock whistle and Adam wanders if she kisses Blake with as much slobbery passion. He pretends that she doesn’t.