Caught a quick case of the miseries on Twenty-two East, hastening on past New Alexandria. Old love was in my brain, which created a vision of the future that flickered from heavenly to grey. Lord help those in the grey. The name of Tom Gettysburg briefly came to mind. Tom Gettysburg...who? What? Push it aside, old boy, and go on home...you want to drive yourself mad? And so I spoke to myself in my head. Nothing had happened. The only thing which happened was the falling away of all those involved. Allie. Joe. Off to find something real, I suppose. Milky Way Joe, you sure spoke of gold, but I'm afraid I might be made of dust. What are you, Tom Gettysburg? An illusion? A mirage? I stopped in Scranton, Pennsylvania, did laundry, rented a room, watched a couple episodes of The Office, then fell asleep. When I dreamt, I dreamt of Allie. She sat across from me in a diner. "Down?" She asked. I pushed my coffee towards her. She took a gulp, went "ahhh" and then put it down and slid it back to me. "Yeah, I suppose," I replied. "You're not dead," she stated for the brighter. "Yeah and I wonder why. I wonder what the heck I do around here anyway." "Go home," she said. "You've been gone too long." "What's waiting for me there, more dust? Am I some dust collector, Allie? Is that who Tom Gettysburg is, the ultimate pile of dust?" "Why don't you find out?" she said. "Go home kid." When I woke up it was early morning. I was five hours from home. It was time to cross the Hudson.