From Sound of a Voice That is Still...
“Have you been having weird dreams?” Heather’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Do tell.”
“Well, of course she’s having weird dreams, Heather,” Lucy said, as she waved over one of the waitresses and ordered two more lattes—one regular, one decaf. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she? It goes with the territory. But I’m confused. Was it a dream you had, Ginny? Or a vision?”
“Was it a vision or a waking dream?” Marsha recited musingly, “Do I wake or sleep?”
“Okay, and that’s a little weird, too.” Lucy turned to stare at her. “Since when do you recite poetry?”
“Oh, it’s just something someone reminded me of recently.” Marsha shrugged. “But, you know, Lucy, dreams, visions, hauntings—it’s a little hard to tell the difference, sometimes. Even when you’re asleep.”
Her sister’s laugh sounded a little forced, and Siobhan decided she’d had enough of this conversation. She had her own bad dreams, after all—and plenty of them. She didn’t need to hear about anyone else’s. Or about anyone else’s hauntings, either.
Book 5 - A Taste of Honey
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