John Lenahan - Shadowmagic

‘I think I have to find that out for myself.’

Boy, had things changed, he didn’t even try arguing with me. His face softened and he said, ‘I guess you’re right.’

‘Dad, I want to thank you, not just for the recent stuff but for everything.’

‘If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m proud of you, son.’

And then we did something that I never thought would happen. We shook hands.

I woke up on the floor of my living room. I was back. I was back in the Real World and it amazed me how fast Real World concerns flooded into my brain. Believe it or not, it was the first time I wondered, Just what in the heck am I going to tell Sally-or anybody, for that matter? I pushed those problems aside for a minute and stood up.

The room was completely trashed. The tables and chairs were mostly smashed. There was a horrible odour, which I soon discovered came from a pile of horse dung behind an overturned sofa. I surveyed the disaster area and almost said out loud, ‘There’s no place like home,’ but there wasn’t anyone around to hear it, and nobody ever gets my jokes anyway.