![]() ![]() The couch I was sitting on was covered by a faded but colorful Mexican blanket. It was so different from the sterility and disarray of the usual gas station. I sat, breathing shallowly, trying to regain my previous hold on the ordinary world. My dread was mixed with a strange fascination that I couldn’t fathom. ![]() I collapsed onto an old couch and shivered, wondering what might come screaming through that door into my orderly world. Along with the office door, I had felt another door opening to another dimension. In my confusion I somehow found my way to the door marked “Office” and pushed it open. He was the old man in my dream! The white hair, the clear, unlined face, a tall slim man of fifty or sixty. That laugh! I stared blankly at him for one more moment. And don’t call me ‘Pop’!” He turned toward me and with a half smile removed his cap, revealing shining white hair. “Oh, uh, that’s OK.ĝo you have any soda pop?” Without looking up, he said in a strong, almost musical voice, “Sorry if I frightened you.” He seemed comfortable enough in a light windbreaker though the wall thermometer by his head registered 38
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