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You feel tony blair so sad for the indignation of the President tony blair drinking and crying that you cry, "Cheer up, Mr. President! I think it’s going to be sunny tomorrow!" This attempt, however, sends him into a rage which he can barely recover from. And while he continues to hurl insults at you, shoving the old woman so that she lands on her ass, a disheveled youth with glassy eyes who appears as if from inside the tony blair blue flames of the spitting fire suddenly is aiming a sawed off automatic at the space between your eyes, yelling, "You murderous hypocrite! You thief! You better do what I say, and do it NOW! Just SHUT UP! I’m either gonna blow you away or I’m gonna sing you a song!" You run for sunlight and wake up, practically trembling, though you don’t know why. You’ve remembered and then forgotten everything. Your vague anxiety is the pale force that frames your vision, like a halo, round the window next time you look.
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