[ He pauses for a moment, and the hand that's still carrying the long forgotten about thermos tightens around it. Breakfast? Eating? That was something he did once. He didn't do that in the Dark Place; if he did, he doesn't remember. He doesn't remember doing things like taking a shower, or drinking water, or anything people do in their day to day lives.

Unconsciously, he reaches into the pocket of his jeans, as if expecting a wallet or a fold of bills to be in there, but there's nothing there. There should be something there. He should have a phone. Car keys. But instead, there's just nothing. ]

Breakfast sounds good. [ Kind of. ] I'd pay, but I- Uh. [ He doesn't have a cent on him. This feels a little awkward. He should pay for her, but where did all his things go?

Hartman was stretched- Stop that. Stop saying that. That's over now. ]

Yeah. Somehow, I knew that you could handle it, if he started making trouble. [ Hartman was always making trouble. He just called it "helping". It wasn't helping. ]

You, uh- you seem to know more about your gift than I do about- about mine. [ He stumbles over those words, because he's not sure what he thinks about his abilities. Are they gifts? Curses? The latter seems more likely. ] I'm not sure I'd call it beneficial.

[ He glances around them at the trees and the sky and the mountains in the background. Everything here seems whole enough. The trees aren't swaying wildly in the wind or snapped completely in half. Barrels and other objects aren't rolling or flying towards him. If he didn't know better, he'd say everything was normal here. ] Do you want to go into town?

[ There's not too many options here, so it seems like town is the place to go. ]