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[lastgunslinger]

It's a little hard to figure out time in the Dreaming. In some cases, that's the point.

Kind of like this one.

Eventually, a little ways down the beach, a chair becomes visible. A tall lifeguard's chair.

Somebody's sitting in it.

Comments

[lastgunslinger]

"You're doing well, then."

There's a stick resting on the sand at his feet; Roland picks it up and pokes at the fire. "Almost ready."

[awesome_lilly]

Lilly laughs, a little, at that.

"Yeah, if I just stay here forever, I'll be fine."

She's joking, but the words linger in her mind.

This is her place, where nothing can hurt her and no one can enter that she doesn't want to see. It's all that she can't leave behind, and it's empty but for a... friend, maybe, who's moved on already.

Maybe she won't stay here forever, but... she could.

[lastgunslinger]

If Roland hears her words, he gives no sign.

The sun doesn't ever go down, so it's not quite like it was along the trail. Also, there's no singing. No Bob Dylan, no Beatles, and no ZZ Top -- Eddie Dean is far away, after all.

And no

(can't you see what your love has done to me?)

'Careless Love'.

There's sharing of khef, though. Roland isn't one to discourage underage drinking, after all. And the vintages of the Dreaming are always particularly fine.

And maybe some marshmallows.

[awesome_lilly]

Well, you know what they say: Roland Deschain. He's a marshmallow.