“Why does one do it?
Round and round the same treadmill one went. Another view like all the others over some unidentifiable part of the earth’s surface five miles beyond one’s grasp. Then another airport, another waiting car. Another eager assurance that everyone was so excited at the prospect’s of one’s visit. Another guest room with two towels and a bar of soap laid out on the bed.”
“Well, he would work it out for himself as he went along, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Sadly. Because for the moment he was a living metaphor of the human condition. He knew not where he came from nor whither he was bound, nor what manner of man he was, nor why he was here at all. He was being taken somewhere for some purpose, but of what that purpose was he remained in innocent ignorance.”
An engaging comic novel.