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Philip R. Sullivan

Published by Foremost Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Philip R. Sullivan

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Central Maine in 1984

I used to have a dream in which an endless length of fabric was moving by me on a roller, and the material was very slowly changing color from green to blue. I could pretend there were all sorts of shades in between, designer colors like aqua and turquoise. But it was crucial for me, while I was inside the dream, to shear the cloth at the exact point where the green turned to blue. I think my problem would be similar if I were a storyteller, trying to figure out exactly where to start a tale. And yet, I would like to tell you about some of my recent experiences. Guess I’ll start with a woman—everything always begins with them. We met under less than optimal conditions.

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