[Will listened attentively, with his head tilted down, eyes flicking across the buildings within his immediate line of sight. When Neal finished his brief run down the ex-profiler's eyes came back to his face and Will's expression was dubious.]

This sounds like a dream. [ He said softly, lips quirking before he amended.] A nightmare might be more apt, but either description would do. Disjointed images, unending supplies, past and present mingled in no discernable pattern.

I can name at least four textbooks that cite cases like this, all the way down to the [he motioned towards the bulletin board] twisted single point of information that ultimately reveals nothing.