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in its perpetual being, and hotter than any man had ever con- ceived it could be. He had, it seemed to him, experienced a dream that was realistic, and the sun was part of that dream; the last part. While dressing and grooming he could think of nothing but the dream. It was odd how the effect of it seemed to expand his awareness, giving him knowledge of things in a vastness that he had never been conscious of before. Even the sun seemed to submit to his knowledge of it, as if it silently said, “Yes, Adam, what you now feel I am, that I am.” It was odd, he mused, how you can spend a lifetime seeking knowledge and learning, and in one instant or in one night feel it suddenly mature into more knowledge than you had ever sought. Oh, well, he reflected, that’s life and that’s maturing. And what a dream this sudden flowering of awareness brought with it! He went out to his car, to go into town for breakfast. It was a little more difficult to start than usual. The battery must be getting sluggish. A thin film of dust covered the windshield and all the windows. That was odd, because it was crystal clear just last night. Oh, well, a dash of water would fix that. The town was really quiet for a “Wednesday morning. It was rather strange. You never can tell about these dreamy desert communities; they behave oddly, doing as they please, when they please. A community could be as psychologically variable as an individual. Sitting at the counter in a cafe, he remarked to the waitress how strange he felt, how peculiar the town seemed for a Wednesday morning. “Wednesday?” she asked in astonishment. “Are you kidding? This is Sunday morning. Brother, where were you last night? Well, what will it be, hot cakes and tea?” 182 SON OF THE SUN “No. No, not this morning. Make it hot cakes and coffee,” he