He was a scholar, about twice my age. A handsome but reserved and bookish man, Dorzi was more at home amongst the old tomes than he was in the company...of men or women, and he was infinitely more conversant with arcane lore and ancient tongues than with feminine wiles. He was the only servant my father would allow in his study and apart from my father, Dorzi seldom associated with the other occupants of the house.One night when my father was away and my mother was busy entertaining one of her. “I’ll go get it, babe. You left it in the kitchen last night next to your purse.”Now, the most amazing thing about the dreams I was having is that I remember clearly how Dale looked. There was no fogginess, no blurred out face. I saw a real face: wavy, sandy blonde hair almost shoulder-length, sometimes held back with a hair-tie; a deep natural tan; playful, silver-blue eyes; a warm welcoming smile that sat naturally on his lips; just a bit taller than me; and definitely in much better. I was held down by the two minders and the camera was used to film ‘Mengele’ s’ work, he inserted that catheter fast and hard and then injected saline solution into the surrounding tissue to ensure a tight seal, though I suspect it was just for ‘Mengele`s’ benefit as he appeared to enjoy his work, I know I didn’t, as it was savage and painfully done causing me to scream and shake-about, which seemed to excite him and cause him to smile... Using a small syringe, he then, blew up the tiny. I woke up the next day. It took a while to get myself orientedand nothing had changed, I was sure, it was just me. Nothing hadchanged.At the office, I didn't talk about it. How could I? I didn't know whatwas happening and yet I felt that I should. Should anything havehappened? Should I feel different? Why hasn't she told me? I wasn'tsure. But something was different, like an invisible mist hanging overme. I could feel it when I was around her, something different. FinallyI believed. I would be.