Who was that old man? Matt wondered. It was his first thought upon waking once again to the infinitely curved corridor. He kept himself calm to avoid the nurses putting him back to sleep so quickly. That old man in the video game designer’s head – that’s not me. So who was he talking to? Matt probed what he remembered from the dreams. Was the old man’s voice some imaginary version of me?

The dreams lasted so long this time, and Matt felt exhausted from the extended jaunt through his mind.

The dream lasted longer this time because the video game designer took those pills in his therapist’s office, Matt remembered. Did that make the dream last longer and...skip over me and the video game character in what is normally a cycle? Was that just…random?

The stars and darkness outside reminded him of the Reaper and of Dr. Heron.

That’s right, Matt remembered. The last time I woke up, one of the nurses referred to Dr. Heron.

He raised a hand to call over one of the nurses and ask for the Dr. Heron of the real world, then thought better of it. There was still so much to consider, so many unanswered questions.

But those are all questions pertaining to my dreams. Just dreams! Matt wished he could accept fully. They’re so convincing, yet whenever I wake up, it’s so obvious those other people and places are all in my head.

May filled his mind, and he reached for his chest, half-imagining that the braided cord was there.

That’s right – the braided cord, Matt remembered, following the thought to the newly revealed layer of his dreams. But that was still in the video game designer’s head. That was still just a dream, Matt ruminated grimly. Even the characters themselves confirmed it’s just a dream. The video game character found the source code to the designer’s world and vice versa. Those are both just dreams. And the dream with the cord in my chest, that’s just a dream within a dream. But…

May’s slanted smile filled his mind once more, and he nearly sobbed.

But that would mean May is nothing but a dream.

He shook his head, and he saw the glowing flashes from the monitors behind him, warning the nurses and other presumed staff that Matt needed another shot of whatever it was they injected into him to keep him asleep.

That can’t be, Matt pleaded in horror. I love May. I know that. She is all that matters. I know that with absolute certainty.

He closed his eyes against May’s unreality and the consequent unreality of his love for her and her love for him.

Don’t I? Don’t I know that? Can something like love just be dreamed accidentally?

A pair of nurses emerged from one of the many doors and walked swiftly to Matt, smiling pleasantly with their identical eyes.

Those eyes, Matt realized, and he thought himself stupid for not realizing it sooner.

“It’s you,” Matt called out to them. “Both of you. All of you. You’re all her.”

The nurses looked at one another with measured concern, then finished their walk to Matt’s bedside. One nurse reached into her pocket and took out the syringe. The other took Matt’s hand into her own and rubbed the inside of his thumb just like May had in the car.

“Everything will be all right, Mr. Willish,” she assured him.

“Take off your masks, will you?” Matt asked bluntly. “Both of you.”

The nurses exchanged glances, then removed the large white coverings. Both nurses were absolutely identical. And they were both May, only without the piercings and carefully plucked eyebrows.

“So you are here,” Matt nearly gushed, grasping the nurse’s hand and never wanting to let go. “It’s you, May,” Matt confirmed, his old voice cracking as tears streamed down his face. “But you’re so young, and I’m so old!” Matt gasped.

May squeezed his hand for comfort, and the other May continued preparing the needle.

“Oh, Mr. Willish,” May sighed regretfully, patience and compassion in her voice. “Not much longer now, okay?”

“May!” Matt gasped, realizing in full force that he was about to be thrown back into the dream world and back into the mind of a character who thinks himself fully real. “Help me,” Matt pleaded.

The other May set the syringe’s plunger, sending a spray of liquid through the needle.

May cocked her head and smiled at Matt as if he were just another patient in an endless ward of dying men.

Distant. Cold. Why is she so detached? Like I’m nothing to her.

“Are you really her? Are you really May?” Matt begged to know despite recognizing that May could very well be either of the nurses.

“The real May?” the nurse checked incredulously, and she kissed the old, bony knuckles of Matt’s hand.

“You’re just confused, Mr. Willish. But Dr. Heron said we’re just about there. So we really shouldn’t be talking like this, okay? Not until we finish with the procedure, at least.”

“Dr. Heron!” Matt demanded. “I want to speak with him.”

“Okay,” May agreed simply. “We’ll let him know.”

Both Mays nodded sweetly at Matt.

“Back to sleep now,” May said with a confident smile.

“Everything will be all right,” the other May assured him with equal sincerity and sweetness.

He could feel the heaviness coming on, and as the nurses refastened their masks over their ears, the lights behind them began to blur, and his thoughts slowed and stuttered.

Focus! Matt urged himself, imagining himself becoming the video game designer and the video game character all over again. Remember that it’s all just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream...