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He walked to the store, paid for an icy cherry soda, and left the cashier a large tip. Then he continued to the shoe store where he thought he’d buy himself some comfortable loafers, but the place was closed. He strolled passed the pearl-gray house where a tiny dog, Titan, always barked chirpily—but he wasn’t on duty just then. Traffic was pretty light, so he danced in the middle of the street like a lunatic.

Some narrative time elapses and he unexpectedly finds himself having breakfast. A hag speaks: “Have you made the appointment yet?”

“Yes,” replies the needy sleepwalker.