The first voice hits Howard like a blow to the head. He has to sit down, and he does so rather unceremoniously. Thankfully, his clothing is already filthy (and caked in crusted salt), and as such the dirt from the ground isn't much noticed.

Adults. An actual adult, and electricity, and television, and a meal on the stove. Howard has to take a deep breath, put a shaking hand over his chest as he sucks in air. As he reminds himself of the sad reality.

"You're dreaming, man. That's all." It feels real for a dream, but logic tends to make more sense than feelings. Rationality is safer than delusions. "Just dreaming."

He gets to his feet and decides he'd rather take his chances with other parts of his dream world than looking at happy kids engaged in the life he'll never have again. He hops the white fence again and stumbles a bit on the landing, skipping and staggering back into the street.