With sunlight streaming in the window, he aburptly woke up the next morning still in his study seated at his desk. The fireplace was cold and the book was now only a pile of ashes. His first thought was that he better cut back on the drinking because it was causing him to hallucinate.

His second thought was how real the hallucination had seemed. He could vividly remember reading page after page of lies. But he could also remember there was a good amount of truth mixed in. It was all so hazy because over the last 24 years he had tried so hard to block it all out.

But at least now he was awake and a few cups of strong coffee would set him to rights. Then he could figure this whole mess out. As he got up from his desk he turned to his bookcase and saw that two copies of ‘Portent’ were now lined up on the middle shelf.

As his face turned white, everything else around him was turning black. As his knees buckled he moaned, “Ramona, Ramona, release me from this torture.”