I'll never know if you get this letter. I've handwritten three copies and given them to lawyers who I think work for long-lived firms. But I can't say for sure. How could I? What does a veterinarian know about law firms?
At least being a veterinarian means I have a job, which translates to a home, food — a fairly comfortable life, all things considered.
I miss you. I miss our world, too, but I miss you more than anything.
I know you've been wondering where I've been, why I suddenly didn't come home, and I'll tell you in a moment. But first I need to explain how I got here because where I am only makes sense when you know the how part.
|Grand Seiko photo by Samuel Chan|
While walking — more like dashing — from the station to the clinic I glanced at my watch, noticing that the time was off by a few hours. When I looked back up, I saw the strangest thing. I don't know how else to describe it other than I had a vision of old New York City complete with gas lamps, men on horseback, an elevated train engine puffing black smoke, and no skyscrapers. Policemen wearing double-breasted, gray uniforms, and helmets stood on the corner nearest to me. I thought I lost my balance on a broken cobblestone. I caulked up my hallucination to the mind-bending sex clouding my mind — as well as sleep deprivation. I now know I also had alcohol left in me from the wine we shared at 2 a.m. That’s important. I’ll explain about that, too.
I didn't mention my sleep-deprived mirages at the time, because these images vanished during my quick-walk from the station to the clinic. Forgive me for not telling you. Perhaps if I had, you would have put two and two together. Especially because it happened again.
Nobody wants to reveal their hallucinations. Dreams, yes, can be fun to share and talk about. But when there’s possibly something askew with the basic wiring of our brain, we close a tight fist around that possibility. At least until we're sure. I didn't want to worry you. When I was leaving the clinic a few days later I saw them: The same policemen dressed in uniforms right out of a movie theater wardrobe. Women wrapped in ankle-length, black dresses, pushing strollers made of metal with babies lying inside what looked like canvas shopping baskets. A man wearing jeans, a white shirt and gray vest was selling clams from a wooden cart on the adjacent corner. I saw a streetcar on rails being pulled by two brown and two white horses. I would have sounded loony had I told you about my visions.