Exiting the building I found my car, door unwelded, waiting on us.

“You know, Murray,” Les said in his lighter than chuckle voice. “You’re doing very well.”

“But what is the purpose?” I asked, climbing into the driver’s seat I started the engine. Les was already in the passenger’s side. “When all is said and done what’s been achieved?”

I rolled down the window and let the warm breeze blow the burned rubber smell from the car.

“Have I changed anything? If I died today would any of those people remember me, would they act any differently than before?”

“You could write a book,” Les suggested. “A tale to cover all man’s foibles and sins, one to inspire them to goodness and wholesomeness. Your great work to make mankind pure.”

“You’re talking bullshit again,” I told him.

“And you weren’t?” he laughed.

He carried on laughing.

Somehow I’d driven into a pea-souper fog, with nothing to see within an inch of my face.

When I came out we were 1000 feet up, and a dragon was flying before us.