...I got on the boat to Heaven!
Well, actually, more like Pittsburgh, and NO, that isn't some metaphor for hell!
At least, it never has been, for me. Perhaps I should say "had been".
My dreams are no more coherent, sane, and useful than anyone else's (except for that brief and terrifying period of prophetic dreams, but this wasn't one of them, I think - you simply can't accidentally start a tractor-trailer combo from the trailer).
But everyone's dreams sometimes slip in a little telegram from the sub-conscious to the conscious.
The past is prologue. Is mine one of those prologues that is completely different from the main story?
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