Ambiguous Nightmare

Thomas couldn't imagine getting back to sleep - especially not to some unthinkable ambiguous nightmare state that apparently awaited him back in bed. He slipped some trousers back on wandered his way into Lilah's kitchen. The span from her bedroom to the coffee machine was slightly larger than his entire place combined. Not to mention that Lilah had her own coffee machine. It was a good one too - with a lot of chrome instead of the standard pouris mold. For a few weeks, the machine kind of freaked him out. The idea of leaving something plugged in to heat up while you walked way seemed contrary to everything Yates had ever taught him about fire. Mostly that it burns. And kills.