"But not to the past or to the future," I said.
"But you did, Mr. Turner. You told me all about thinking you could go into the past by visiting a book store where they sold old magazines. You told me how the intrusion of the past got worse with every visit."
I blinked. "I did? I did?"
"Of course."
I stood up. "I did not!"
"Please try to keep from getting violent, Mr. Turner. People like you actually have more control over themselves than you realize. If you will yourself to be calm...."
"I know I didn't tell you a thing about the Back Number Store. I'm starting to think I'm not crazy at all. You—you're trying to do something to me. You're all in it together."
Sergeant shook his head sadly.
I realized how it all sounded.
"Good—GOD!" I moaned.
I put my hands to my face and I felt the vein over my left eye swelling, pulsing.
Through the bars of my fingers I saw Sergeant motion me down with one eloquent hand. I took my hands away—I didn't like looking through bars—and sat down.
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