[center][h3]Noon[/h3][/center]

At that particular moment in time, Allan was in the kitchen. The smell of cooking meat was in the air, and though he was no master chef, he did know how to whip up a killer [i]spaghetti bolognaise[/i]. With a measured hand he tipped a small cup of water into the pot containing his sauce and stirred with a wooden spoon, humming softly to himself as he worked.

The remnants of his ingredients lay on the counter next to him; some strands of dill, scraped clean, garlic and onion skins, the wrapper of a portion of frozen meat, an empty spaghetti box and a salt and pepper shaker. Messy as he was, he'd at least bothered to wrap up all the waste with the plastic meat wrapper for easy disposal later. The box could be recycled, which meant a different bin to throw it in. Later, of course.

As he leaned over his pot to give the cooking sauce a sniff, he felt something cold and wet bump against his knee. Allan looked down to see Bess, peering hungrily up at him with those big brown eyes, her tongue lolling out of her muzzle as if to question her master's decision to not feed her the yummy things he had. With a smile he leaned down and ruffled her between the ears.

"Don't worry, silly Bessy. I'll get you something to eat later."

He straightened up and caught sight of his roommate Max entering the living room and immediately stubbing his toe on the coffee table. With a resigned smile, he shook his head and waved back.

"Afternoon, Max! Want me to make you a cuppa?"

At the mention of a dream he paused. He knew that lately at least one or two of his friends here had been suffering from them. He was one of the lucky ones who'd slept soundly every night ever since moving into the [color=6ecff6]house[/color]. Now he knew that Max was one of them.

"A dream? Do you remember anything about it though?"