At least this part is real, he thought. This part is outside the dreamcatcher.
What brought him back was pain. Not in his throat, that was gone and he could breathe again—he could hear the air going in and out of him in great dry gasps. No, this pain was an old acquaintance. It was in his hip. It caught him and swung him back into the world around its swollen, howling axis, winding him up like a tether-ball on a post. There was concrete under his knees, his hands were full of fur, and he heard an inhuman chittering sound. At least this part is real, he thought. This part is outside the dreamcatcher.
