Unstuck in Time With Billy Pilgrim
Awakened by his presence, I was startled but not frightened. Somehow he seemed familiar and non-threatening. He stood there in the dim light of a single energy-saving bulb from my reading lamp. I put aside my dog-eared, yellowed copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughter House Five. A Children’s Crusade, arose from my chair, and approached him for a closer look.
