Tell this soul with sorrow laden,

If within the distant Aden, it shall clasp a sainted maiden

Whom the angels named Lenore, it's time.

At long last you've crossed over to Spooked.

Stay tuned.

Stay tuned. Two years ago, maybe 9, 30, 10 o'clock a night, just finishing things up exhausted.

I'm driving my car, bumping tunes to keep my eyes open.

I know I'm going to get home and sleep for days.

Ritalin, it's kind of weird. You pull off the road and it's a long wooded driveway. Hidden. It's

occluded. That's our place on the left and I'm almost there. Driving on autopilot.

I pulled off this highway onto my road a million times, so I pull off the highway.

Can't wait to hit these sheets speed down the road past the Mormon temple. dark night, dark night, sharp turn onto our

wooded driveway, blackness. Almost there, two points reflect back from my headlights, I slam

on the brakes and stop. A few inches in front of a baby.

A tiny baby.

Crawling on the rocky dirt of my driveway in the gloom.

A little baby, seven, eight months old, a baby. Then people,

a mother and father maybe, they come out, they grab the child, and other apologizing. So sorry.

Just taking a late night walk through the neighborhood or something. So sorry.

I actually don't know what they're saying.

I'm just staring down at the driveway.

The after image of that child's eyes burned into my own.

...