We arrived back in the good old U.S. of A, late last night. I laid my weary head to rest and had a truly terrifying dream. I was standing on the platform of a train station waiting with hundreds of other souls for the last train to arrive and take us away from an imminent apocalypse--an apocalypse attributable to the band of fools with which I had been directly associated, a band I had followed further and further down a fruitless road of cerebral ruin. The very act of standing upon that platform would have been deemed a huge cop-out by many of my so-called "Friends", so I had told no one of my decision to abandon the "Quest". Suddenly, the train arrived and began to fill up fast; it filled until it was bursting at the seams. All too soon, a whistle blew and the train began to move out of the station with hundreds of people, including myself, left waiting to board. In a last desperate act of cowardice, I began to plow through dozens of women and children, knocking senior citizens to the ground, all in an effort to get on board that train, to get out of town. Behind me, I left a huge mass of humanity, screaming and weeping, begging for one last chance to escape. I sat there panting and sweating, my eyes downcast, as the train gathered speed. I nervously hoped that no one left behind had recognized me and seen the disgraceful actions I had taken to escape the horror. I awoke to the sound of the telephone ringing in my hotel room, it was the front desk telling me I had a visitor. A Father Herman to see me.
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