The room began to take shape. It was not what I expected. I thought it would be a dark medieval castle. Torches would cast deep shadows. But instead I...found a Parisian lady’s boudoir, pre-World War II. The men were off preparing for conflict—negligent of the women they would leave behind. The ladies entertained themselves in the rooms of Mademoiselle Katarina—a decadent 1930s slumber party. A fire burned in the grate casting shadows where the light of a lone lamp did not reach. Cinnamon,. He stared at her for several seconds, perhaps not comprehending what he was looking at. Yersia could only hold her breath and pray. Finally, the Orc realized that what he was looking at was not a figment of his imagination; he quickly drew his sword and yelled in a deep, loud, growling voice, “Spy!”His two companions turned and drew their swords. Yersia froze in terror and threw her hands in the air saying, “I am an elf! I am surrendering!” She tried to crawl way from them on her back, but the. He was with Diego, and the former compadre still had his wrists and ankles shackled, but in the dream the man also moved about easily as he talked. And Ricardo could never quite see how Diego managed that trick.“157,” Diego said smiling in the dream. “Don’t you see, boss? The number is 157. That’s 157, get it? Get it, boss? That means we have to...” And Diego would calmly keep on talking, but the words were mumbled, impossible to understand. At the end of the dream, Ricardo would wake up with a. “Yes, Mr Donaldson, I’ve already spoken with the florist and they are sending over some designs for approval,” I stuttered.08:13Two minutes to get along the corridor. This is going to be so fucking tight, I tell myself, but then that’s why she chose this time.08:14I’m almost running down the corridor as my phone buzzes. It’s the one-minute warning.I hurtle through the door to the ladies, and to my relief, it’s empty.I rush into the last stall, the one furthest from the door and hurriedly lift.