Circa 1967-1968: a young man in his desk chair in his dorm room facing a window. It's late afternoon. Outside this dorm room, so much is going on. He's propped his feet on the desk, rested his chin in his hand, and closed his eyes in a moment of reflection. Behind him, the rumpled sheet of his unmade bed. At the foot of the bed, on the wall, a poster of Bella Lugosi as Dracula looking down on a victim whom he holds in his spell. There's a calendar hung over the upper left hand corner of the poster. In the picture above the calendar's grid of days there seems to be an airplane of some sort. It looks like it's taking off. Attached to that picture is a narrow road sign, an arrow pointing over Dracula's head. The letters on the road sign are indecipherable. Then there are neck ties hanging from a rail, and next to the ties, an eight-by-ten framed picture of a young woman, head and shoulders. A small copy of the same picture is tucked into the bottom corner of the frame. Next to the picture hang a hodgepodge of posters and signs: the topmost one appears to be a printed schedule, something listed in columns. On the biggest poster we can make out the bottom half of a fat man in suspenders, his arms resting on his legs. Beneath the posters, there's a bookcase and a line of thick books. It's quiet and still, a moment of silence, a young man surrounded by a world he's constructed, resting for a minute, closing his eyes in a quiet room, circa 1967-1968.