June 29th, 2033
The good Doctor Grusin says I should start keeping a journal. He says that if I write down the dreams they’ll start making sense to me. I know it’s a load of b.s., but I’ll indulge him anyway.
What have I got to lose?
You know, maybe keeping a journal isn’t such a bad idea after all, somebody should keep a record of what’s about to go down. Might as well be me. There will be survivors and the story has to be told.
So, here goes….
My name is Dante Mason. I’m twenty-seven years old and I am not crazy.
How’s that for starters?