[It was the third dream possibly, and Jude was starting to understand. He could feel the difference, the lucid aspect of being aware and looking around with knowing eyes. It didn't stop the dream from existing or being strange. He blinked a few times, blurry, and looked around. It was the Harvard library. He spent many an hour in there; Jude was a brilliant young man, but he strived for the very best grades. He made connections, sucked up to professors, went to the right events. But none of that mattered too much if he lacked the education he so searched for. The library was empty, however, which never happened. All the frantic and manic students gone, just like that. Unreal.
Jude stood and wandered throughout the hallways. The book shelves were knocked over. The pages scattered on the floor. Ripped or torn, or tossed in the wrong places. It was a disaster, the library, with lamps flickering and the phone off the hook at the front desk. Jude felt like this could easily head into zombie territory again, it had the feeling of a horror film, and he sighed. Could very well be he'd keep dreaming himself dead. Unless he could learn to control them, which hadn't happened yet. He was wearing a suit at least this time. He hated dressing casually, even in dreams, his suit was armor. He stepped on a picture and frowned, leaning town to pick it up.
It was a picture of a beautiful young woman, with long dark hair, with a smile and eyes that weren't shadowed and sad.] Chloe. [He said softly.]