After nine years you might be surprised that I can recall some things from before I set out. Nonetheless, I am startled to recognize this boy, especially considering how he has changed. I see his face in and out of an old dream that keeps me listless. Unfortunately, it is a dream that I do not enjoy retelling:

The dust had settled in layers on my brow and upon my shoulders as I stood motionless in an empty office space. Yes, an office space devoid of furnishings and proper light fixtures; an office space among a series of vacant buildings, sitting on a large concrete slab that I suspect was never worth commercial appraisal. We had picked the spot together and in secrecy with the hope of finishing our project. But, as he left me there, pinned against the wall, in the quiet behind our silent beast, with its mechanical sleeve pushing fluids into my gut, I knew our partnership was at an end.

But now he was just a boy, shaking and pale.