Some Stones Don't Roll (FicMemOne by Stephen C. Rose) [Kindle Edition]

We are discussing feeling and logic and psychologism and I am silenced. I cannot participate any more. I am a wanderer in the outer space of reverie. I am slumped in a fix of my own making. I am caught in a self-referential bind fishing for iambs amid the still-resonating traffic noises, the low rumble of the earth's breath. "I'll be All Smiles Tonight" though my heart may break tomorrow. Prescience. I woke with that song nudging my reality. But I could not remember the title. I ran it through mnemonic slats and it came clear and so I brought up the lyric because a song was prescient in the past with such crystal clarity that I have since credited the experience with authority, It actually only happened that once. Speak the truth. The truth of that. "Is Anybody Going to San Antone?" And I told myself if I can get to the end of that lyric I will know what is happening. I was in my VW or was it a Subaru. I do not remember. I think it was spring. No it was fall because the body was discovered in the spring. The end was everything will be OK as long as I can forget I've ever known you. And I looked at my paranoid-schizophrenic passenger and gulped and silently aimed the car down the street and crossed the bridge and rode the mile into town and dropped him off and returned home and did not know until the next day that he had gone missing after staying up all night talking to a boy named George about freedom and then stabbed him in the early, early morning with a serrated knife and then disappeared knife and all period end of story.