It was just the two of them in the gallery.

Lobo turned to JK, Van Gough was intensely disturbed you know. He saw the world through different eyes. Just look. Who in their right mind could imagine a night like that? He swept his long arm out and pointed at the painting in front of them. The tiny canvas contained an image of stars surrounded by halos of light through blue-black space and a landscape undulating with energy. His mind reeled as he was abruptly dragged back toward the dreamscape. His heart raced as he struggled to compose himself. I'm sorry. This is fascinating but I'm late for a meeting. I have to run.

Lobo laughed and the shadow of something alarming emerged from within his sophisticated exterior. The eyes that looked back at JK glittered with an animal intensity. Well you can run, but you can't hide Mr. Kimble.

JK's life is in ruin. He is a reluctant dreamer in a world where dreaming is a disease. He has lost his status, his job, all his money and is on the run to save his life. His only allies are a street gang, a madman and a beautiful angel he doesn't believe in. His only hope lies at the entrance to The Portal of Dreams.