Book3:WereMyDreamIs

dinrownweedsanddryandwitheredleavesctheground.Wasn’titstrainthemidstofthebusymetropolisagardehiscouldremainforsakenandabandonedforsolong?Therosesinthegardenbloomedinspiteofckofcare,asiftryingtoshowofftheirbrilliantcolors.Buttheirpetalswerecoveredwithdustandtallweedsalmostcrowdedouttherosebushes.Theywerelikehigh-born,aristocraticdiesdownontheirluck.ThefamiliarsoundofbrakesbeingappliedwasheardandsoonDimitriheardfootstepswalkingtowardshimthroughthegrassandbushes.Dimitri’sempty,sightlesseyesturowardsthenoise,knowingRichardandJamazwereback.SeeingthatDimitri’seyeswereopen,Richardsaid,

    “Hi,Dimitri.Hadagoodnap?Didyouhaveanygooddreams?”Dimitriwassurprisedtheywerehomesoearly,soinsteadofanswering,