It was getting on towards dark. Between the approaching twilight and the driving snow, he could still see but not well and not for much distance. Then... as he was looking, he suddenly saw a light. He moved over and rubbed the window clear and looked harder. Yes, there was some kind of building a couple of hundred yards off with a lighted window. It was downhill across mostly open ground but with a few evergreens scattered along the way. It must be on some other side road but from here he could. He remembered distinctly that first time, at age three, when a photographer snapped a flashbulb in his eyes. The child Wesley had wandered around the room for several seconds with hands outstretched trying to catch one of the balloons that floated before his eyes. Wesley chuckled in mirth at the reminiscence as he once again reached out to touch a visual image that had no physical manifestation.Here, again, Wesley was surprised as there was a tangible presence. Not exactly shape or texture, but. More

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