Like a Phonebooth in the Desert

Or a bottomless Hole, Mel. Like a Night time talk show of things on the edge of reality. Things you won’t focus on, but when mentioned, make you nervous, even though you laugh it off. It all started with an odd dream when I was four. The recurring dream. The one with me and someone looking forth on a Medieval town. The recurring dream.The King guy was being carried on a litter, and the town was pouring out in a parade, across the drawbridge, and down the road. Did I mention it recurred? I looked into the evening sky; where there were dozens of  V formations of … you guessed it.   Silver Flying Saucers.  Recurring.  Silver Flying Saucers.

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