“I keep having these dreams. I can’t seem to determine if they are real or not.”

            “Try describing one of them for me, Nate.”

            “Well, the one I had last night, which brings me to be sitting here on a Saturday, doesn’t make since to me at all. I remember it all vividly which rarely happens to the dreams I have. In fact, when I woke this morning, I wrote it down.”

            Nate hands the doctor a stack of papers.

            “You wrote all of this this morning?” the doctor asked.

            “Yeah. I thought I might forget it if I were to not write it down.”

            “How long did this take you?”

            Thinking, Nate responds, “About 3 and half hours.”

            As the doctor reads through the stack of papers, Nate leaves the couch he was sitting on to wander the doctor’s office, rereading plagues and certificates that he has memorized from the numerous visits in the previous two years.

            With each intellectual moan and grunt from the doctor as he turns the pages, Nate becomes more nervous with what the doctor is thinking.

            “Well…” Nate demands.

            “Can I ask you a question, and I mean this with all seriousness? What was the last thing that you ate and drank before you went to bed last night?”

            “You’re kidding me, right?”

            “No.”

            “Well, I was at a dinner with Senator Korgan and we all had the…um…oh yes, the Pineapple baked chicken, with a glass of red wine.”

            “You did not happen to be a little drunk before going to bed, were you?”

            “No. Not at all! What does any of this half to do with what I dreamt? Get to the point, dammit.” Nate’s frustration was rising.

            “Well Nate. Dreams are nothing but a story or scene that your mind makes up as it is resting. Unless you are a devout religious man, dreams are nothing more than that. Premonitions are child’s play. And what you have here, I feel, was a dream that is probably been hindered by the stress of work and personal life.

            “But, wait, what if I am religious, not that I am saying that I am, or anything of the sort, but what if I am? What does this mean?” Nate begins thumbing through the packet of papers he has taken back from the doctor.

            “Well…” the doctor thinking very carefully about his next words, “…I’m not a priest or religious man myself, but I would say this is some sort of story depicting Revelation…”

            Nate gives the doctor a blank stare.

            “Revelation…the end times. God coming back to earth to receive his children, and the devil becoming man? I think that is how it goes.” The doctor reluctant to speak of such things.

            “That’s rubbish!”

            “Exactly. So these are nothing more than mere dreams. Nothing that you should be worried about.”

            Nate leans back on the couch while starring at the floor, “But that doesn’t explain why I’ve had this exact dream every night for the past year.”

            “Past year? You have not said anything before.”

            “Because at first, they did not seem like anything. Then they grew to be more intense. I felt the heat of the fire as I lifted the sewer panel. I saw all those people die. Their faces are burned into my mind. Everytime I close my eyes, I see them…”

            “Nate, do you think this has anything to do with things that have happened in the past?” the doctor asked.

            “Doctor, please don’t!”

            “Maybe you haven’t let go of it fully yet.”

            “…please…”

            “Trying to forget about it will only make it stronger. The stronger it gets, the more power and control it has on you.”

            “…” Nate is unable to respond. Different emotions are arising in Nate.

Nate, look he doesn’t understand us. He doesn’t know what it is like to hold a man’s life in your hands. The power it brings to watch each last breath be a whisper of your name.

“Nate…do you want to talk about it?” after an awkward moment of silence.

Do it, Nate. Show him what it is like. Let him know…

“Sorry doc, but I have to go. I have a meeting in an hour I have to be ready for. Thank you for listening.”

“Nate…” before the doctor can respond, Nate is out the door.

His face is flushed with aggravation, nervousness, anxiety, with so many mixed emotions. He jumps into his car waiting for him by the curb. Before the driver enters the car, Nate screams, “Why can’t you leave me alone!?!”

The driver returns to the front seat, rolls down the privacy window, “Mr. Marlow, is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Nate responds, “please, take me to the office.”