metronome gasps

In a dark cafe or restaurant, Ahmet asks me how I like my Snickers bar. I tell him there must be something wrong with my head because I can't remember eating it, despite it's wrapper glaring back at me from the palm of my hand. My consciousness floats above my body, which is on the white-and-black-tiled floor, choking Aysenur. She doesn't seem to mind. She might even enjoy it. I want to stop, but can't, and it reminds me of when Neil socked Ryan when he dreamed a dark spirit-figure had flown into their bed and her body. I wake up, a gasping metronome my heart.