Leonard Watermelon was ever so quietly drifting between here and there. Time looses status and meaning when color, shadows and clips of memory are your reality. Here one has neither need want nor regret. Flashbacks are the new sanity as the fading mind ignites one electrical charge after another into vivid experiences more realistic than any Fourth of July fireworks display might provide. And so it was with Leonard as he drifted into awareness of himself peacefully sitting on a Greyhound bus. There staring out the window at ice crystals fashioned into trees along the interstate before him in a world of sparkling diamond mystique; created by freezing rain and illuminating sunshine. Despite the cold emanating from the widow Leonard felt warm and content. A journal of worn and tanned leather lay in his lap and a pen securely in his hands. Moving with his thoughts to outside the window a cool breeze chilled his cheeks and he felt the need to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight. Raising his hand to do so the realization that he was flying neither scared nor alarmed him and he pushed with is legs to go faster and higher. The bus quickly faded away until it was just a dot far below him and his attention turned to enormously large feathery white clouds surrounding him. A faint memory of telling someone that these types of clouds where his favorite danced by for just a second and then he was back on the bus staring at a blank page in his journal trying to recapture in words what he had just seen. “Clear,” and the moment faded back into the color of purple, blue and pink as a Hawaiian sunset melted quietly into the Pacific behind a large hotel of unknown origin.