But when I opened my eyes and found myself back in my apartment––well, let’s just say I don’t recall ever having moved so fast in my life. I jerked my hand back from the man’s neck, lost my balance and fell off the edge of the bed. My hands and feet found the floor and I scrambled backwards away from the bed, not taking my eyes from him. Chaz dropped the rags and was at my side by the time my back hit the wall. “Yesh, what happened? Did you get zapped or something?” I shook my head. “How long was I out?” “Out?” He sounded confused. “You just touched him, and then fell off the bed.” “All that in the blink of an eye?” Literally, from the sound of it. “All what?” I shook my head again, not trusting myself to talk about it yet. Pulling my feet up under me, I used the wall for balance to get up off the floor. Chaz reached to help, but I didn’t want him to touch me. I’m pretty certain the incident was isolated to the man on the bed. At least I had never heard of some dream jumping from one person to the next like a metaphysical virus.
