Through the dark tunnel I see brightness, not light. I have seen
no light since the time my brother told me of the great star
Betelguese. The alpha of Orion -- his bright shoulder -- a great
beast of a star that could swallow both sun, moon, and the earth
itself. And I said, "I shall see no more lest I gaze on the horror
of Betelguese." The train comes, with whistles and bells, but I
hear nothing. I have heard no sound since Maria Callas died. I
said, "If I cannot hear that voice again, I shall hear nothing."
Some say I am mad. And I cannot but agree. Guard RaIl Madness.
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