Friday night. Music to my ears. I kicked back, watching an old James Bond movie in my worn leather recliner. By about eleven-thirty, I flicked off the TV set and headed up to my bedroom, tossing back the rest of my ginger ale and collapsing onto the mattress. I was asleep before I hit the bed, but I was restless that night. I kept having unusual dreams. Not dreams, exactly. Like dreams, but without the pictures. I heard voices in my head, all night. I couldn’t place who was saying them, and it was several different voices, but they sounded familiar. What they said made no sense either. “I swear, if she does that one more time…” “Fire burns up the horizon, ashes rain from the sky… bodies are mounting up upon the hills…” “Turn around. I don’t want your death to be painful for you in anyway…” Sitting straight up in my bed, I was drenched in sweat. In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, and rubbed my eyes. I was terrified. Not nearly as much as I would be in the future, though.