My dreams were much more vivid and stimulating that night than any that I had before. However, the remembrance lingered with me into the next day, sweet and sour in the same amount.

For what I dreamed of was what I no longer had, what I would never have again, my family.

The dream resembled reality enough to make it plausible, with one core difference, I was present. I was involved in the lives of my loved ones instead of burying my head in writing my plays. We had a wondrous time.

Upon waking up, tears moistened my cheeks, and I sighed in sadness. I wished that, with that one breath, I could expel all my sorrows, yet I recognized the impossibility of what I was seeking.

Why is it that we only learn to appreciate what we have, once we lose it for eternity? Our mind can be so cruel in not revealing to us sooner what we should have known all along.

"I shall no longer dwell on the past mistakes! One cannot alter the past. My efforts should be on rescuing my friends from the entangled web that my writing put them in, not on wishing for the impossible," I thought.

That was when it dawned on me. The realization that overpowered me more than learning of the existence of a magical pen able to communicate in my language ever did.

I realized that I could have both. It was in my power to make the necessary rewrites in the story of my friends and to get my family back. After all, I possessed an all-powerful pen.

As I contemplated my future course of action, I decided that instead of writing two books that sounded exhausting, I would weave in both of our stories into the same book. Hence, I would make it far more complex. It would possess more depth and yet take up less of my time.

This time, I decided that before I take up writing, I had to investigate all the possibilities carefully and plot out the most compelling storyline possible.

Having in mind the fame my works still possess, I was confident that if there was one man on the planet that could achieve such a task, it was me.

As I ventured outside of my apartment, I instantly turned towards the stairs, ignoring the moving coffin in which I dared not enter on my own.

"Shawn, going down?" the annoying elderly lady interrogated me.

To clarify, I have to admit that Marisol is neither old nor annoying to most people. However, since the moment I encountered her, I found her exasperating.

She is approximately my age, but our personalities differ in such an enormous way that I frequently find it challenging to converse with her. The fact that she is loud, overly amiable and far too candid, does not improve the matters.

My dear wife was the opposite, as were most of the women in my time. Nonetheless, I did not let Marisol hear me say how she should be meeker. She tended to go on long and tiresome lectures on my 'chauvinism', whatever that is, that I could not withstand.

"Ahem, yes, indeed. I appreciate you graciously reminding me of the fact." I said, misunderstanding her meaning.

"Shawn! Are you coming? I can't hold the elevator forever," she said rather bluntly.

Being finally aware that her question was an invitation, I briskly entered the metal box as she pressed the button to steer the metal beast.

"I appreciate that you have delayed the departure of the carriage for my benefit," I said.

Though I thoroughly despised her, I was born at a time where proper manners were a necessity, especially when conversing with a lady. Though, looking at the male clothing Marisol wore, I am doubtful whether the word 'lady' could apply to her.

"Where are you heading, odd fellow?" she asked.

"I need to obtain a few book volumes for my research from the library," I said.

"Has anyone ever told you that you sound like you've jumped out of the pages of a Shakespearean play?" Marisol suddenly inquired.

I gulped loudly upon hearing my proper name escape her lips. However, I did manage to preserve my composure.

"No, my lady. That has never occurred to me," I said.

I did not want to enable her to make any further inquiries into the said topic. Thus, I labored over proper questions to ask of her to divert her attention.

"How about you, my lady? Where are you going?" I asked, thinking that if she had inquired that of me, it had to be an ordinary question to ask of your neighbors.

To me, the question felt extremely personal and intrusive, but from her unchanged expression, I could understand that it was a common one in casual conversation.

"I'm off to work," she said.

"Splendid, and in whose house do you work, if you do not mind me asking?" I asked her, my curiosity getting the best of me.

From the car she drove, I was convinced she had to work for an influential family, but I wondered which one as I was still learning about them.

"House? I don't work in a house. I am a doctor," she said.

I was stunned. How was that possible? I wondered when the times had changed so drastically.

"Forgive me, but how is that probable? You are...I mean the skin color you possess is...not white," I ultimately managed to stutter out.

"Shawn! I had no idea that you were a racist, as well as a chauvinist. And here I thought that you might be a decent gentleman." Marisol said, stomping out of the elevator, her chocolate brown skin shimmering beautifully in the sunlight streaming into the hall.

"But...but..." I tried to say, but she was already long gone.

I might not have appreciated her, but I never meant to offend her. I was caught by surprise since, in the past, things like that were unthinkable.

For a woman, especially one who had not possessed fair skin, to become a doctor would have been scandalous. Nevertheless, I should have been more cautious in my questioning. After all, she granted me a favor in taming the beast of the elevator for me. However, what I formerly stated was true. "A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool."

It is possible K was correct in assuming that my 'ancient ways' as he entitled them, would get me in trouble one day. They undoubtedly did, and I regretted not listening to K's for once sage advice.

Determined to deliver my apologies at a later time, I continued on my way to the soothing comfort of the library. They were the only places that did not change as much. I thought that perhaps once there, I could both finish the necessary research and try to assimilate another altered reality of this new world, the one where anyone could become a doctor.