Yeah. I couldn't tell what was real. Any of it. I thought all of this was just some sort of dream. And dreams don't matter. They're not supposed to matter. And you can do impossible things in them.
[John grips him tablet hard. He wants to confess Stein's death to Stephen, the actual neurosurgeon here. Confess and receive whatever judgement he might have.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-02-14 04:12 am (UTC)[John grips him tablet hard. He wants to confess Stein's death to Stephen, the actual neurosurgeon here. Confess and receive whatever judgement he might have.]