Author's notes: It's actually finished at last!
I had a lot of difficulty with the last chapter, because as I was writing it, it suddenly dawned upon me that this story was getting out of hand, turning autobiographical, and supremely over-the-top. So I had to ask myself if I really wanted it that way. The answer is up to you, my readers, as I'm not too sure myself.
Anyway, this last chapter is not a chapter proper as such, but more of a reflection on what this collection of randomly and loosely connected vignettes means to me, and how it continues to resound in my life. This baby has been with me, or in my head, at least, for more than a year now. I don't think I'll ever be able to get it out. So here it is, my parting shot, the final sip of Coke, or the final snort of crack, if you like, a sort of Postcript.
Postscript
The sun came up one morning and looked upon the rose, and where the two met, the sun became as water upon her petals, and the rose opened into fullness when the sun stifled her in his glory. But when into darkness fell our star, the rose waited in silence, waited in silence for the word; waited in pain, waited for the miracle; waited in death, in death for love; waited by the glass window, waiting for light; the rose waited in darkness, the rose waited in darkness for the dawn.