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“In the doorway stood a figure, light forming a halo around his head. He isn’t really there, Tom told himself. You’re hallucinating. If he could split into different parts that talked to each other, perhaps one of them had gone to the door. ‘Major Fox?’ it enquired. So polite, this hallucination.” — Jack Grimwood
In the doorway stood a figure, light forming a halo around his head.
He isn’t really there,
Tom told himself.
You’re hallucinating.
If he could split into different parts that talked to each other, perhaps one of them had gone to the door.
‘Major Fox?’ it enquired.
So polite, this hallucination.