Sins of the Fathers [antikvár]

IntroductionFor years i had this recurring dreamthat I kept to myself for fear its value would depreciate if it was ever translated into words. But if doing so will help even one person, I am willing to risk all in the pages to come.In the dream I am driving in Montana. Or it could be one of the Dakotas, or another planet even. You know how dreams are. They make no sense, and they make perfect sense. At any rate, the fact that I am traveling limidess miles untetheredj far from the Personal Rapid Transit, should tell you this is a good dream. The top is down and the acoustic wave is blasting all my favorite oldies, when I come across a fine-looking woman and her baby by the side of the road, and I decide to give them a lift. "At last," she utters with the voice of an angel, "a gentleman." She swings open the door, slides into the passenger seat, hands me the baby, and buckles her restraint harness."Turn it up," she commands with a smile. "I just adore this song." Dumbfounded by her brashness, I am slow to respond and she ends up helping herself. We drive in silence, she listening intently to a second millennium tune called "Yesterday," and I wondering what she will do when she learns that I murder people for a living.Sins of the Fathers ix