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alarm blaring on the night-stand, matching the echoing sound from my dream mind. I felt exhausted, battered and bruised all over again. My body ached, my mind was sluggish and my heart was too weary by far.
    But that dream felt real. So real that I staggered out of bed and collapsed to my knees next to my bookshelf. My blurry gaze taking in the shapes and sizes and titles of the many books my grandfather had gifted me over the years. Weather Patterns And The Power Of The Wind. Coastal Beaches And The Turning Of Tides. Heat And The Properties Of Fire. Space And The Bending Of Time. Until my shaking fingers landed on Flora And Fauna Throughout The World.
    I sat stunned, looking at the spine on the book that I knew featured the Moreton Bay Fig Tree. It was just a dream. I knew that. But the certainty that it was also real, that I had just had a conversation with my dead grandfather, had me reaching out despite the knowledge that I'd just woken from a powerful fantasy, and grasping the book in a trembling hand.
    The pages fell open to the exact right one. The very same Moreton Bay Fig Tree in the middle of a meadow of waving grass stalks stared back at me from a two page picture spread.
    "Holy freaking hell," I muttered, running my fingertip over the exposed roots in the photo.
    "When you wake up, remember that this is real. This is happening."
    I stood up on shaking legs and walked in a zombie-like fashion to my dresser. I knew what would greet me, but still a part of me hoped I was wrong.
    Green. So vibrantly bright and mesmerising.
    Yes, my dead dream grandfather was right. This was real. This was happening.
    Fuck.
    But despite life changing realisations, I had responsibilities still. I may have wanted to stand in front of my mirror all day and reason - or not - through everything that was happening to me. But I couldn't. The shop wouldn't open by itself, and I was determined that Sonya should not have to go there again so soon after my two days forced absence.
    So, I made it into work before anyone else. I fired up the ovens and rolled out the pre-made dough. By the time Sonya made it in for prep, I was well ahead of schedule. I had a fire in my gut and ants in my pants. I couldn't stand still for long or thoughts of Theo's late night visit and confusing threats of his Guard taking my head would flash before my eyes. Compounded by the 'real' dream visit and conversation with dead-Gramps.
    I was becoming a freak and there was no stopping it now.
    Sonya knew something was up immediately.
    "So, still feeling weird?" she asked, while she placed tomatoes through the slicer.
    "What makes you say weird?" I replied, a little too abruptly.
    "Because missing two days and not remembering why is weird?" she said as though seeking assent.
    But I noticed, she didn't mention the obvious. The fact that I thought I saw Theo's eyes turn gold. She hadn't mentioned the doctor's eye colour change last night either, so I had to assume she hadn't seen it. And if not for the forty minutes in front of my mirror watching my own eyes change from blue to green and back, I would have begun to think I was seeing things. But there was no escaping that my eyes had changed colour. And therefore, I had seen Theo's and the doctor's turn gold, but Sonya did not.
    What did that mean? Logic told me that Sonya was different from me. Different from Theo and Doctor Peters.
    So what were we, if Sonya was normal?
    "And as for Theo, I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that," she suggested, not waiting for my reply on why she thought I was weird. "He's probably just one of those moody and mysterious types of men. Gotta admit, it's a little sexy."
    Mysterious, yes, but the guy had burned my neck until it blistered by touch alone last night. Hardly a candidate for the Sexiest Man Alive title. I frowned at the dough I was kneading, remembering his mortified look when he saw the marks on my neck. Remembering his confusion and agony, all of which I felt as