“Good evening, Kathryn.” I jumped as a fire suddenly flared nearby. The orange glow rose and met the end of a cigarette, illuminating the silver hair of its smoker briefly before burning out and shrouding us both in darkness once again. The man at the door. It seemed like a million years ago. “I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up.” “I was tired.” The man laughed softly. “Yes, I imagine so.” He moved toward me, a dark shadow in an even darker twilight. Then came the rustling of his jacket and the sound of flesh against metal as he patted a bench I hadn’t realized was there. “Sit.”
His apperance is intentionally vague as a subtle nod to the mysterious nature of the Wizard in the Oz books.
