Scores of boots came scurrying up the hill. Those towns folks who had seen the fire in the sky, and heard the ensuing thunder, went off to indulge their curiosity. Some

took it upon themselves to act as criers, running from home to home or shop to shop with the announcement that "something has fallen from the skies!" One such crier

burst into Fairy Tail Tavern just as Gray was raising a spoonful of soup to his mouth. "Gray," he panted, "your boys...something's crashed! They were there. They're okay,

a little shaken, but come quick!" Starving but sobered, Gray threw down the spoon and bolted outside. "Hey Stripper! Don't forget to pay for that!" shouted the

bartender after him. Gray ran to his car and hit the firing switch after pumping a good amount of fuel pressure. He opened the throttle, and the vehicle hurtled him down

the road. - There was a crowd on the hill when Gray arrived. He picked his way through it, finding his sons near the center of the crater. Getting no response after

hugging them, he saw that they were staring transfixed at a black object in the hole. Everyone was. Gray got closer. "What is that?" he asked. Heads were scratched,

brows wiped, dusty suspenders anxiously tugged at. "I don't know, but he looks...familiar," said a woman. "He does!" agreed another. "I swear I've seen him before, but

where?" Following many minutes of excited chatter, it became clear that the man in the stone was recognized by all who saw him, including Gray. Yet nobody could

remember where they seen him. That is, not until Grey spoke up. "He's from my dream," he announced. Grayson's eyes lit up. " No, no, he's from my dream!" Another

voice in the crowd yelled out, "They're right! I've seen this man in my dreams too!" "So have I," said Gray, with growing realization. "And more than once." The mere sight

of the man, with the revelation of his pervasive dream presence, was like a key unlocking a memory the brain had long ago sought to hide, but forgotten why. More

chatter. Most could remember the man from at least one dream. Some had dreamed of him recently, others many years ago, with dim recollection. But nobody could

remember the man ever doing anything apart from simply being there, watching the dreamer. Nor was anyone sure what this all meant, or what they should now do with

him. "Let's get him out of there," suggested a man, "and make sure if he's really dead." A few of the townspeople left to fetch tools, and when they returned, they set

about their task of extraction. But it was no use. The glass lid was not glass at all. No use of saw, ax, or hammer would leave as much as a scratch on its strange

iridescent surface. It was getting late, so the crowd reluctantly dispersed. Back at home, Grey asked his dad and odd question as he tucked him into bed: "Dad, do the

dead dream?" Gray planted a kiss on his son's forehead. Gray's wife had been a self-professed medium, engendering in him a deep reverence for the things that lurk

behind death's veil. She was hanged by a mob a year after the twins were born. "Oh yes, the dead can dream," he answered, echoing his wife's words. "They dream of

the living every time we dream of them." That night he dreamt of Lucy and all the good times him and the team had together before everything changed. "Oh Lucy," he

mumbled in his sleep. - By morning, there was a disturbing news: a little girl had gone deaf overnight, and awoken with a message. She 'd seen the man in her

dreams, only this time he'd spoken to her, and urged her to relay his every word. The message? "Sweep your stern gaze across mine and tremble." Some people went

to see the man again, and came back with reports that a faint smile now showed at the corners of his mouth. The next day brought similar news: only this time a boy

had woken up without the ability to speak. He wrote down a message from the man in his dream: " Five days, five windows to the world lost." Everyone in Magnolia

was abuzz with speculation. Some of the questions were obvious: where had the man come from, why was here, what did his messages mean? Yet the fascination

turned to fixation, and soon townspeople were squabbling over every detail about the man, even things so trivial as his hypothetical hobbies, native language, or diet.

Grey and Grayson, for their part, decided he would enjoy Mrs. Redfox's apples, and began leaving them piled at his coffin.