[ WP ] Write a story of a person whose dreams continue a single story each night .

Norman woke up instantly and completely, feeling exceedingly refreshed, if a little bit stiff. He took his time to stretch and roll around in bed, enjoying the few glorious moments of warm comfort afforded to him before he would have to get up and head to school. When his bed no longer had any additional comfort to provide, he conceded to slinging his feet out of bed and sitting up, then rubbed his eyes a final time and exited his room. 
 
 The stairs seemed longer than usual today, but Norman was used to that by now. He ran his hand along the wall as he wandered down a series of halls, leaving a long purple trail in his wake to find his way back, should he ever need to head back upstairs. Before long he found himself in the kitchen, and plopped himself down into a soft recliner set by the small kitchen table. 
 
 `` Morning Mom,'' Norman grumbled. `` How's work?'' 
 
 Norman's mother finished smashing the wrinkles out of an egg before serving it to him, presenting it as a perfect, smooth circle on a plate. `` Well, I've been pulling overtime because Nancy's on leave, but you know how hard things are for them already.'' 
 
 Norman let out a long, hearty laugh. `` Oh, yes. I remember vividly. Nancy is your friend who keeps having to call out the plumber for her sprinklers, right?'' 
 
 `` No dearie, that's Rachel. Nancy is spending the year dead for tax purposes.'' Norman's mom turned back to the bowl of pancake mix she'd frozen the night before and began to stir it with two fingers. `` A year dead seems like a perfectly acceptable amount of time off, do n't you think?'' 
 
 Norman grunted in the affirmative through his mouth full of oatmeal. `` Mmm! Sorry mom, got to get going. I'm going to miss the bus and I have that large presentation today!'' He scrambled to his feet, and immediately dropped dozens of small, immensely important parts of the presentation he was putting on. He fumbled around for a moment, grabbing the majority, before racing out the front door. 
 
 Within ten minutes Norman was on the bus with his usual group of friends, chatting amiably about the patterns that were hidden in prime numbers. His friend John, who was wearing Raquel's hair at the time, tapped on his shoulder. `` Hey Norm, ai n't that your mom outside?'' 
 
 Norman looked out of the bus window at the freeway, where his mom was speeding along at a respectable 95 to keep pace with the bus while leaning out the driver's side window with a pair of jeans in hand. 
 
 `` Nooorrrrman!'' she called over the roaring wind. `` You forgot these!'' 
 
 Norman looked down to see he was wearing nothing but his tighty-whiteys, and was instantly filled with dread. He felt all eyes turn to him, heard a dim, risking murmur - but then caught himself. 
 
 `` No,'' he thought, `` do n't worry about it. Chicks dig guys who are confident. You can totally pull this off.'' He stood up in the middle of the aisle, hands in fists at his waist. `` No need, mom!'' he called out the window. `` Jeans are for squares.''
