Your name is henry wilkens. you open yourrhuemy
eyes. overhead, the diamond lights of the heavens
are beginning to wink on. you've fallen asleep on
the job again. and now you've got to hurry to make
up the hour you've lost. the nights are cold this
time of year and your blooo runs thin in your
veins. but even so, your tired heart beats a little

faster and you get that warmish feeling when you
turn at the distant roar to look up at the rocket.

DREAMS DIE HARD, DON'T THEY, HENRY? AND YOU'VE

HAD SO MANY DREAMS...