(The omniscient narrator returns ... in a new guise)
In some unknown place,
at some time,
a man is waking up.
He does not know who he is
Does not know where he is
Where he has been
or where he is going next.
He knows he is a man
(the evidence of THAT is staring him in the face, wide awake),
but that is all he knows,
and he's not even all that sure he believes it.
The man suspects he has been sleeping
Dreaming
Wild, vivid dreams
Horrible dreams
The kind any sane man would consider nightmares
But not this man.
He does not know how long he has been dreaming
cannot be sure they were only dreams
cannot be sure they will not return
the next time he closes his eyes.
Somewhere in his gut he senses something he does not want to admit
A truth he cannot face
Not yet at least
Not before he finds out who and where he is
How he got there
And why it all happened in the first place.
He wants to go back to sleep
but he can't.
Not now.
Not here.
Because the thing he cannot deny is this:
Something is beginning
or perhaps beginning again
any
minute
now.