"You've been brought here because you feel too much. It's an uncommon condition. Even more so lately. Especially someone your age. By now, most people in your position have grown a much thicker skin. It's self-preservation. I mean, to be blunt, you look older than thirty-three, you've had chronic hypertension for half your life, recently you've developed stomach problems... You've got to get this under control, don't you think?" "Isn't this really just growing older that we're talking about?" "No. Some people are able to mature in a much more congenial fashion. One that doesn't take such a massive toll on your physique. Picture a salmon. The salmon, before he begins his journey, his evolutional obligation to make it all the way upstream to propagate his species, looks for all concerned to be a fine specimen of fish. However, by the time the poor bastard makes it to his destination he looks as though he has been masticated and half digested by a grizzly or two and than spat back out to continue his joyless pilgrimage." "Do you serve lox and bagels on the weekends?" "You'll be on a low sodium, low fat, high fiber, low flavor diet. Once you get accustomed to it you'll wonder how you ever ate the old way...Oh, and there's bran muffins on Sunday morning." He didn't even know how he got here. Actually, he was on his way to work when he started to feel peculiar. He was veering into the left signal turning lane at the corner of Dawning Highway and Evans Avenue, pulling upto the light when all the lights lit together. First the red, then the yellow, then all three plus the turning arrow began to blink on and off in rapid succession. He does remember being vaguely mesmerized by the multi-colored strobe this was creating.
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