To my friends: In the dream I had, we were young, and we escaped Phil Dick's "Black Iron Prison" in a car that could fly, climbing out the window laughing as the guards came in screaming... slamming the car in drive and flooring it, off from the boundaries of the known and on, finally, to true adventure.

The fortune cookie I opened the day before we came to "Revolutionary Headquarters" was simple, and concise: Something incredible will happen in your immediate future.

Here I sit at my computer, the day after our evening together, and realize the fortune and the dream were both true. While not all was said that needed to be said, the doors were opened and an understanding was reached, a level of trust was obtained and the seeds were planted. I write this note to myself, so that I don't forget... these wards are a magical ward cast against amnesia. For the first time in a long, long time... I feel as if something might actually happen.