Some Things Can Be Both Real And

I Dream A Lot, In Colour And In Sound And Scent. Quite A Few Of My Stories Have Come From Dreams.

And So Nat Stood Up And Joined The Group, And Followed, And Watched, And Awaited His Chance As The Light Of Chaos Lit The Plain And Gods And Demons Marched To War.

Some Books You Read. Some Books You Enjoy. But Some Books Just Swallow You Up, Heart And Soul.

Places Do Not Lose Their Identity, However Far One Travels. It Is The Heart That Begins To Erode Over Time. The Face In The Hotel Mirror Seems Blurred Some Mornings, As If By Too Many Casual Looks. By Ten The Sheets Will Be Laundered, The Carpet Swept. The Names On The Hotel Registers Change As We Pass. We Leave No Trace As We Pass On. Ghostlike, We Cast No Shadow.

A Man Who Casts No Shadow Isn't Really A Man At All.