Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Only a late-model Ford and a hearse as black as a raincloud. He's not coming. He went by the Interstate. Or he flew. No. He'll come. ... Then I banged my head on the van's undercarriage and saw flakes of rust silting down. ... and every twenty minutes or so I had to repair to the van to get out of the blowing sand and rest my stinging eyes. ................
................