All night howling and screeching vehicles rushed past our LA downtown hotel window, until I fell into
a shallow grave where an infallible voice said: Everything they taught you is wrong.

On a path I almost missed, while searching for another way around the "best sun" I met a remembered shade: "It's Robert, isn't it?" A broad smile lights his sallow face. "Did you get to Lhasa?" I ask. "Did you find the lama you were looking for?" "I can't say," he replies. "I really can't say."