"Amy-" "No, don't," she said. "It's-- it's fine. It's... They're just dreams and it was just pollen and it's fine." "Amy," he said, taking a step towards her.She held up her hand. "I mean it, I'm fine. I just need to walk around a bit, all right? Alone. Then, you're going to take me somewhere amazing, okay?" Okay," he said, nodding. "I can do that."Amy nodded sharply and then she turned on her heel and headed down the hallway away from the control room. Away from him. Just standing there looking bereft, his hands empty at his sides.*****She thought she'd headed in the direction of her bedroom, desperately hoping for the solace of her shower so she could get the dust and random foliage off of her. Or you know, scream or cry, whichever came first. However, she'd been walking for well over half an hour and still hadn't come across her room. So, Amy stopped in the middle of the corridor and sighed."If you're trying to direct me somewhere, a hint might be nice right about now," she said. I wondered where they were going and what they would see when they got there at their final destination.I sat in the outdoor chair at the local coffee shop and looked blankly at the huge billboard that proclaimed “Canada – The Land that time forgot” enticing New Yorkers to vacation in the northern regions on their honeymoon or for any other reason to get away from the stresses of the modern world. It triggered a memory of my travels north to track the escaping Indians that had wiped out the Seventh Cavalry and General George Armstrong Custer at the Battle of the Little Big Horn. In all honesty, I didn’t really blame the Indians that much because after slaughter of the vast buffalo herds robbing them of their prime source of food, the white men in Washington, D.C. had broken promise after promise to the various tribes and it reached a point of no return in the minds of the skilled horsemen of the golden plains.I remembered in particular talking in present day to some isolated hermits.
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