A bit too insane

Tyler was late to unlocking his office door. It was weird -- he'd slept much more deeply than was usual for him, and had dreamed about support groups and (specifically) support group hugs from years ago -- Chloe's skeletal enfolding like an embrace from a Halloween prop, Bob's big meat arms and manboobs enveloping him like some universal mother. Marla was in there too, rigid and false against him.

The dream was unsettling, and the sweat was still sticky on his face as he settled in to finalize his lesson for Friday.