Circa 2001

I'm standing next to my car in the parking lot of an apartment complex I never actually lived in. It's a bright, warm, sunny day. Next to the parking lot is a busy road with heavy traffic going in both directions.

On the other side of the road is a figure, waving at me with his hand high in the air. I squint my eyes and see it's my friend, Roger. He looks great, which surprises me. Strong and hale, with a headful of hair and a beautiful, open smile on his glowing face. I'm happy because the last time I had actually seen him he was very sick with cancer. Frail. Dying. 

I can see he is restored and is joyfully greeting me. I wave back, so grateful to know that he's better now.

Circa 1990

I'm at work, a fast food restaurant, mopping the floor of the main lobby where smoking is allowed. I look over into the second seating area for non-smokers and see my recently deceased great-grandmother, who was a chain smoker in life, sitting in a booth. She doesn't say anything. She just smiles while being engulfed in a bright, white light, then vanishes. I know she forgives me for not mourning her passing more than I did, which wasn't much.

Circa 1983

I'm in my classroom at school but it's nighttime. I have the feeling that the world is reversed. Half the students are gone and the rest are frozen at their desks. The teacher is frozen, too. I get up from my place, afraid. A low, dense fog swirls around the room, around my knees.

I try to run away but my legs are heavy, slow. I'm in an alley. The fog is still there. A white van approaches and a man gets out. He has a dark beard and is wearing mechanic's overalls and a knit beanie. He starts towards me and I turn away in fear. He's going to hurt me.

But when I turn, he's there, getting closer. I turn again and again he's there. Everywhere I look, he's there, in the fog.

I know I'm about to die.

Circa 1982

Nighttime. I'm high above, looking down on a large forested area covered in tall pines. There's a Sphinx, taller than the trees but with my mother's face, surveying the land below her. 

There's a network of cables, tight ropes, interlacing the tree tops. People, slaves, are walking on them, scurrying to do her bidding. Afraid. Watched.

Some distance from the Mother Sphinx, there is a clearing in the woods. In the center of the clearing there is a deep pit. The pit is lined with figures wearing red, hooded cloaks. I can't see their faces. They watch what is happening in the pit.

In the pit there is a struggle between two opponents. Jesus and Satan. They fight for my soul and the  Mother Sphinx awaits the outcome.