A man sits in an empty waiting room reading a book as the clouds announce their arrival, rain falling in a steady stream. He's wearing a suit, 3 pieces, a hat on his head compleating the outfit. The clock on the wall ticks softly, the sound of it only desturbed by the gentle sound of a page turning and the constant patter of rain. Morton sits in this room. The tick of the clock, the sweep of paperr, and the chorus of rain providing a foundation for Morton to reaffirm reality.

Morton doesn't remember much- only that his clothes don't look right. Something about the way he's dressed feels... off.

He looks around again, looking. The man in the suit is shrouded in shadow, it's impossible to see his face. He turns another page in his book, then reaches into his suit- most likely an inner pocket- and slips something to his face. Another venture into his suit, and a flick of orange colors his hand and his lower jaw. Or lack there of. Infact, to Morton, there's nothing there during the innital flick of light. As if the man was made of darkness.

The flick of light from the man's lighter catches on what's evidentally a cigarette, then the lighter disappears back into the man's suit. He takes a pull from the cigarette- the tip glowing a brillient orange before dying back down to quiet grey embers as it burns. The man looks at Morton, and speaks.

"You know... Most say it's rude to stare. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you lack manners." The man flicked the brin of his wide hat.

"Oh... I uhh- that is- I'm sorry..." Morton's voice sounded as confused as he felt. "Where are we- I. Where am I?" He asked.

"The waiting room..." The man said, the tip of his cigarette glowing orange yet again.

"Could you be- excuse me- May I ask for more information?" Morton said, swallowing the first set of demanding words.

"Think about before, kid. What happened before? Where were you, what were you doing?" the man closed his book, then looked at Morton pointedly. Morton could feel that much, despite the shade that covered the man's face.

Morton looked down at himself, thinking. He considered his hands, feet, arms, and legs. He took a breath in, then let it out. God he could pratically hear his heart beating in his chest... Couldn't he? He felt for his heart, the process annoyingly difficult for something he's familiar with. His throat? No; His Wrist? No; His chest...? Nothing. No pulse. Why? He couldn't be alive if he didn't have a pulse.

"There you go, kid. Now you're getting it. I think it's-" The man stopped suddenly as Morton shoved his hand into his chest to grasp around his heart.

"Kid! Stars above- what are you doing?" The man asked, Morton squeezes his heart and feels his blood start moving.

"Morton, be careful!" The man knew his name? Not important, Morton lets his heart return to normal size then squeezed it again.

"You've only got the once heart, kid!" The next squeeze started something, and Morton could feel the engine of his heart kick into first gear and rush forward as fast as it could. He gave it a few more squeezez to be sure it was beating, then left it to it's divices.

The man sat, the silhouette that made his form seemingly shocked.

"I don't know what you wa-" This time, Morton was intrupted by himself. Nature called apparently. Morton sat up out of bed- the twin bell alarm clock saying it was 2 am. It was 3 minutes late. He didn't care. He took a breath, then reflected on his dream. He felt for his heart.

He couldn't find his pulse