The Tower.

Recently, The Tower has been calling to me.

It's like a dull ache behind my eyes, throbbing insistently, thudding endlessly. It is the urge to tongue a cut on the roof of my mouth that can't seem to heal. It feels like standing of the deck of a ship that's just hit troubled water and started to take them on... the slow sinking feeling you have in the pit of your guts that makes the hackles on the back of your neck stand on end. Fear washing over you in a cold wave,long before the icy sea ever reaches your feet. Crawling it's way menacingly up to your knees before surging forth and hitting your belt line. It is the knowledge of what is to come that instills this anguish, this NEED.

I Know that I won't be able to resist the murky depths that await me. The sea of pages laid forth by a King over tumultuous decades. The Violence and Hardship, The Heart Break...The Rose...it's all there for me. I've been cast along the path of the beam, tossed into the street and under the wheels of a Cadillac by a priest. Or just a man who claims to be.

I stand in The Way Station.

I travel under The Mountains, the slow mutants beckoning.

I will palavar with The Man In Black.

I stand before a door, with hinges that connect to thin air, and open it.

This and so much more I WILL do, because it is Ka, and you my faithful few will follow my journey, as we are Ka-tet.

I walk, somewhere Charlie is sounding off his steam whistle, smiling that smile...

I don't trust him, and that's the truth.

I'm afraid, and that's the truth...

The Tower calls me forth into The Wastelands...and I'm helpless to resist.

And that's the truth.