The foggy mists of the crossroads, right before sunrise. Dusty, but not so isolated. I often find myself here. Waiting, Dreaming, watching. People wander through this place all the time. The rum is flowing. I know I am dreaming, the rum never runs out nor does the rum sting the throat. Smooth. As usual, the old black man sits there waiting for me with his canes. He gently tips his hat, looks up and smiles.

"Welcome son," as he gestures to sit next to him in the grass before the cover of the trees. He's got himself a stump, and there is one for me as well. It is a familiar and comfortable seat.

I nod. We have these talks maybe more then we should, or just the right amount. I slowly hand him my bottle which he heartily drinks. Its a dream, the rum never runs out, the offer does not quite mean the same here. but he appreciates the gesture, nonetheless. He pulls some bread out of the sack, and we share.

"You know, I think its time you start telling that story," he mumbles while he starts chewing. I stare blankly, the morning mist encircling. "Admit it, you have been thinking about it".

"I do, but its a fiction, those memories, everything just made up, easy contrivances for a disturbed mind, besides I got better".

"Sure, but its a story that wants to get told". He replies.

"Why would I want to open that door again, why I would I want to relive that pain? What can possibly be gained for anyone?"...

"Do you think you are the only one with stories like that? Think no one else may have experienced what you did?", he asks.

"I don't know, but the story itself drips with poison, so much pain. Stories lead to manifestation, stories shape consciousness, maybe itself is only a gateway that they wanted in the first place."

He smiles broadly. "Yes but you survived, you learned. You walked the road, you crossed through that crossroads, and here you are sitting at another one. I am just asking you to walk through it, I will have another stump for you at the next one. Do you believe everything was a hallucination?", he asks.

"Memory becomes much more complicated as a Magician I think. I really do not know what was a Hallucination and what was real, but you already know that, since you have been watching."

"I have," he grins again, "I have been watching, its a great show" laughing he plays with his cane. "Help me up, my child."

I move to help the old man with the cane. Picking him up, as he has done for me some many times before.

"Listen, all I can do is open the door. You have to walk through it, although I promise, and I will show you where this may lead, but not tonight. You'll have to wake up soon, the pesky awaking world. You are telling a story that does not have an end yet. That part of the story hasn't been decided although the pieces do move behind the scenes. Walk with this old man for a while, enjoy the sunrise on the road with me. You do not have to decide anything right now, Ill just ask again."

I smile now, and we walk on the dusty road towards the sun. The mist receding and the beams of sunlight bouncing off the trees as the birds start to sing. I take a deep breath in as I walk. He put's his hat down and we walk onward together.

The Alarm goes off, I am back in my plain bedroom on the foam bed. The air conditioner hums along with the classical music that I had put on the night before. I don't really want to get up, I don't really want go to work.