He opened his eyes, although he wasn't certain they were ever really closed. He sat in a chair, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. An open field surrounded him. Green grass and wild flowers of yellows and purples stretched to the horizon. The only interruption, a blemish, on the idyllic scene, was another man in a chair facing his. The other man seemed out of focus. His features were unclear. The first man, the one who had just opened his eyes, tried to identify the man who was little more than a blemish against the meadow. "Who are you?" He asked, not expecting an answer, as the idea that he was in a dream brought on by... that was it... the accident. He'd been driving too fast. He lost control of his Ferrari. 'That was a fantastic car,' he mused, forgetting about the man, without discernable features, sitting across from him. "What have you done with that which I have given you?" The out of focus man finally spoke. The Ferrari, yes, ...
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