Before I had time to worry, Brand began coughing, too. He said, “I had the weirdest fucking dream. You were swatting a fly with a sack of nitroglycerin.” “Nitroglycerin the heart medication, or nitroglycerin the explosive?” I asked. “You really want me to come over there and explain my metaphor?” “Yes,” I said, and I was being honest, because I wanted to see him move and know he wasn’t hurt. His gaze softened. “I’m okay, Rune,” he said. “We’re okay.”
