He had decided on a strategy to free himself. In one quick movement he straightened up and stepped backwards. It might have worked perfectly if he hadn't stumbled over a piece of wreckage. As it was he suddenly sprawled backwards and fell to the floor in the exact center of the patch of moonlight. His winey companion, true to her promise, accompanied him in his downward plunge with skin-like precision. She landed against Marc's chest with a sigh of satisfaction.
"May I take this as capitulation?" she asked. "Or was it only an accident?"
"Don't be so disgusting," Marc said. Then, gazing upward, he suddenly blanched. His mouth fell slack. The girl had loosened her hold on his neck and was sitting up, gazing down at him. In his confusion Marc didn't even notice that the thing she was sitting on was his stomach. The girl was the same one in the dream. The girl was Toffee!
"Oh, Lord!" he moaned. "You're...!"
"Of course," Toffee said brightly. "I made it. I'm here."
"Then this is really a dream," Marc said dazedly. "I'm still in bed asleep. I only dreamed I woke up and came down here."
"Wrong, son," Toffee said briefly. "This is no dream. This is for real."
Marc stared at her in disbelief. "Wait a minute ..." he breathed. Then he reached out a hand, touched her, and quickly drew it away.
"That's the general idea," Toffee said.