He spake unto me: 'Woooo! Woooo! Ha, ha, Mikey! Wake up, I'm not a ghost. Man, I'm really getting the hang of this astral projection shit, don't you think? I'm going round John Varley's house after this. He won't have a clue what's going on. He'll wet his pyjamas. If that works out, I'll probably pop along to see a few of those commies in the government. I'd spook a communist for fun, but for a pack of tarot cards I gonna carve him up real nice. You get the idea. Can't wait until Halloween. Will you be with us next Friday night? It's going to be a riot. Well, I'll let you get your sleep. See ya.'
Then he was gone. Into the shadows of the night. Far from being angry, I was actually relieved it was Bob who visited me. I thought it might have been one of those night hags at first. Bob's coming along in leaps and bounds, isn't he?
