Winston Cigarettes

Dick had said nothing about our little adventure through time and space. But then I had said nothing about it either. What if his reasons for keeping mum on the subject were the same as mine, viz., not wishing to seem like a lunatic? Perhaps I should sound him out gently. Or, on second thought, perhaps not. If he wanted to talk about it — if indeed he had experienced it — then let him. Right then and there I just didn’t feel like exposing yet another facet of my lunacy.

I finished, zipped up, washed my hands. I looked at my face in the mirror. Yes, that was definitely a foreign free cigarettes hanging out of my mouth.

Basically, what little world-view I could be said to possess was crashing to the earth. But at least I was back in my own time, or at least the time I was used to being in.