Aaron woke up to a strange silence. His toes were cold. He didn't want to move his legs out of the small radius of warmth his body had conducted throughout the night. He pulled the covers tighter around his neck and tried to force himself back into sleep. His dreams had been pleasant, and he wanted to return to them, to Janne's arms. He couldn't remember the sound of her voice, couldn't feel her soft Nordic hands anymore. He wooed his mind back into an awkward, uncomfortable place somewhere in between sleep and consciousness. He tried to recreate his dreams of the previous night, but his subconscious wouldn't buy the facade, and they were too practical, too logical, too formulaic. His psyche knew he wasn't really dreaming, and he was about to give up when he heard a knock on his door. Cursing under his breath, Aaron flung the covers from his body and slipped his feet into his lime-green terrycloth slippers. He hurried to the door, having not been in contact with any of his neighbors and hoping for a lucid conversation, though also dreading the possibility of confronting another lunatic. He peered through the peep-hole and viewed two lush, bluish-green eyes glancing down at an angle, inhabiting a man's face. The fish-bowl quality of the peep-hole seemed to dramatically shrink the man's head in proportion to the rest of his body, while somehow keeping his eyes true to size. Aaron unlocked his deadbolt and opened the door only enough so that he could stick his head out without offering his entire figure for the man to look at. Immediately, a wide grin, obviously forced beyond its natural extent, spread itself over the man's face.

"Good evening, my name is Mr. Paul Neuman, might I ask what your doctorate is in?" the man cheerfully inquired.

"Well, I'm not a medical doctor, if you need one. Is someone hurt?"