Ash Heap Hound (8)

   
   "Ash Heap Hound (8)"
   
   Before the Sun ignited its awesome power and life-giving sustenance, I heard something weird by way of my American Foxhound ears; indeed, I first watched as Conner pulled out his phone, his eyes still glued heavenwards; next, he dialed a number, put the call on speaker, and a dude called Doctor Sampson answered.  Then, I listened to the phone call, disturbed and saddened by it all, and for my friend, the lovely Conner, but there was some good news for me in the conversation.  
  
DOC
Up early again, huh Conner?

CONNER
You know me Doc--I never sleep, not really.  Why is all this happening?

DOC
Well, insomnia and sleep paralysis are majorly misunderstood; plus, your severe social phobia conditions are almost agoraphobic-like.  You can't urinate in public, and God forbid you should have to make a bowel movement in public.  And I know, nobody without medical credentials understands this type of personal suffering, and even true physicians don't get it, sometimes.  

CONNER
I'm still reading, compulsively.  It's the only thing that makes me feel normal.  When Kerouac brought ON THE ROAD to his publisher, the publisher told him there were run-on sentences, uncanny rambling, and so forth; next, Kerouac grabbed the manuscript from his publisher's hands, telling the guy that those words were dictated to him by the Holy Spirit Itself.  And I'm writing short stories now too--to calm myself.  Ray Bradbury said people write short stories to have control over a type of environment.

DOC
Just hang in there Conner.  Who cares what people think.  And talk to that girl Zoe you have a crush on.  She may be a real good friend one day.  Okay, come see me tomorrow.  Gotta go.

CONNER
By Doc.  Glares back towards the changing heavens.