Home again I realize I'm in Split view. At my keyboard the letters seem to move around and change places while I fight the characters trying to escape from my page. Every word is a battle with the person I am becoming. There is a knock at my apartment door. I step from my desk, "Who is it?"
"It's George, Mr. Johnson, those documents have arrived."
I say, "Thanks George, you're here late tonight." As I open the door and no one is there, I discover I'm asleep still and this is one of my other apartments that I occupied in a dream. Everything is familiar, but just like friends that have changed and escaped from my life, I know this isn't mine.
I hear a pair of unmatched footsteps as I notice the feel of a mans hand on my arm holding my up as he opens the glass door in front of us. We step outside into the night and he is addressed by a stoic Asian woman who takes instant control. "Thank you Benjamin." "So this is the trouble maker." "Make him comfortable. Has he been scanned?" Benjamin sets me down in a very low but comfortable chair that leans back like a torture device in satin. The night air is bracing and a little cool. I hear humming from the city. But it is a charmed and musical chorus of delicious sputtering that sticks in my throat.
Benjamin says to be nice to me and that I am having a rough evening. And that yes, I've been checked out and that I am fine. I'm almost relieved to hear Ben's voice, as that it seems familiar. I wonder if this has become my hell for letting so many slip through my life without attachment. I don't want him to leave, but I know this is why I'm here. And I am learning. I look up to see Ben's smile as he walks toward the door and disappears.
"My name is Vera." She steps around the front of her desk and sits down straddling the corner. Once she turned off the equipment on the desk I could see we are looking down on the sparking city. It shimmers in harmony with the stars and the music of the city. That feeling of dread gives me shivers. I want to die. I began to sob. Vera scolds, "Stop that, nobody hurt you." This is the characteristic behavior of a "Confidence Gamer." I take a deep breath of relief. At least now I can get on with why I'm here, I think. "You are supposed to be a great psychic, but as you know we have machines that can that now, thanks to you." She scathes, "Are you proud of yourself?"
"Look if you have some criticism to offer, let me have it and spare me the attitude." "I'm here to help." "I'm back, at least for now, whenever this is."
Vera laughs, "Good, I just wanted to make sure I have your attention." "I don't like you Mr. Johnson and I have always resented the tone of your writing, you are too pure." "I hate that, but in spite of everything your work has redeemed cults like ours here in the 21st Century." "We now have your work in the psychic profiling inventory to protect us from the "Normal Blind Spots" that deluded and alienated our predecessors." "Without your work we would still be seen as threats to the stagnant order of our post modern society."
"You don't expect me to buy this whole dragon lady routine, do you?" "It's so canned, and I'm not feeling it."
"You are right Phillip." "I am just acting, but sometimes it's hard to remember the detail of what you achieved." "You made it fashionable to detach." "Once your books went viral, dispassion became the rage." "Under achievement became the new black." "When people decided that they don't need to be attached to opinions, to each other, to even life itself, it's like the world came together to have a purging cry." "How can you be such a joke?"
Wow, she's right. I never deserved any of this.
