Dancing by the freeway he floated above the onramp. He fluttered in the first thin layer of fog that settled in after dark, but all that was just a memory now.
They had him cuffed in a windowless room. Air conditioning thundered and voices murmured.
Maybe he shouldn’t have told the soft spoken lady in the crisp white coat that the grizzly bear he danced with had coaxed him into the Sun King’s golden chariot.
He was confused now. When he asked if he could leave, she asked him where it was he wanted to go.
All he could think of was a lounge in Las Vegas, or maybe Reno, where he had once experienced something quite pleasant. Even though he could not remember what this was, dancing by the freeway suddenly seemed pale by comparison.
