At 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon, my thoughts become disordered ..Ron is talking, but his words are out of sequence ..like a movie soundtrack playing randomly. I try to compensate for this by reading his lips ..when suddenly he turns into a movie character ..which starts me laughing hysterically. I tell him he looks like ‘Vincent D’Onofrio’ ..but he looks at me quizzically like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about ..then he morphs into an alien from another planet ..and I freak. “Who the fuck are you ..!?” I scream ..and watch a succession of bewildered expressions cross his face .. each one too exaggerated to be real ..and just what I’d expect from someone who’s not what they seem. His eyes shift nervously from side to side ..and I detect a hint of urgency in his voice. He says he’s concerned for my well-being ..but it sounds insincere. A wave of paranoia washes over me and I feel compelled to cut off this conversation with whatever‘s become of Ron. I hand him a case of wine ..and ask if he wouldn’t mind putting it in the wine cellar ..then I bolt out the door before he discovers that I don’t have a wine cellar. Outside, daylight arrives in hues of green and blue ..which is comforting compared to the anxiety I was feeling inside. Cars whoosh by ..and vanish out of sight. One by one, the houses on the street begin to disappear .. revealing family rituals that I no longer understand. In case they‘re not aware, I stop and shout: “Hey, you’re not behind closed doors anymore ..ya’ know ..!” In return, I get a bunch of mixed messages ..some going: “come here, come here” ..and others saying: “go away ..and mind your own fucking business”. Not knowing what to do ..I go back home where I’m relieved to find that Ron is his usual self again ..and drinking my wine. He pours a glass for me and says he couldn’t find anymore room in the wine cellar.