The New Improved Sahara Driver

As I sit here in my beloved golf, knowing that I will have to abandon it in a car park before the week is out, I cannot help but reflect on the last few hours of my life with astonishment. My friend Romero; my only ally is with me although if you could see me while I drive towards Southampton you would be correct in assuming that I was the only person in the car. My friend tells me that his name is Romero and that he is not of this world. Yes, I can imagine what you are thinking and I dont blame you, the thought has crossed my mind several times although I am armed with foreknowledge, and evidence, it still seems too incredible to be true. When I first started to realize that I could move things at will I quite reasonably considered that I may be going mad. It cannot be difficult to understand my feeling. I am a seemingly normal young woman, and part of a generation who believe in science, and anything that falls beyond the parameter of known physics, is considered superstitious nonsense. Prior to now I would have laughed at the idea of controlling physical objects with my mind. But it happened and no matter how hard I tried to push it to the back of my mind by telling myself that I was tired or had a little too much to drink I could not deny the event. I was mystified yet afraid to experiment with my new found power as to do so would be to admit that I was mad or different or something else, and deep within there had always been a prevailing fear that I wasnt quite normal. My grandmother has described this fear as me feeling that I am jinxed, but it isnt quite that simple, there was much more that I did not convey about my abnormal feelings. Had my notion been confined to one incident, then I would have been able to let it rest, however, that was not to be, and it was the coat that did it. I was so far from the rack. Unlike the glass on the table, the coat took some time to levitate towards me and confirmed what I had suspected to be true. I almost let out a scream but managed to muffle it. Still I tried to tell myself that the happenings were figments of my imagination, what else could I do? After my grandmother left with William, the reality of what had transpired with Nigel kicked in. I had been so angry that my power had manifested itself. Not that I was sorry for the pain I had caused him; new improved Sahara Driver I may be but saint, sorry to say not likely! It was no longer avoidable. There can be no doubt. Sahara Driver has managed to dispel the belief that mind over matter is a myth and Nigel Bennett can testify to that. Not that he would mind you, but that didnt matter, I knew the truth. Oh how I wish I could live through that precious moment just one more time! I know its a serious matter but still just to see his face again, especially if I had been fully aware that it was me who caused the first incident. Seeing his smug grin vanish as I knowingly hurled

him through the air for the second time would be worth having to face the aftermath once more. Well so long as the result remained the same. Wasnt it Jung who said, all fear is unlimately the fear of death, and at that moment I could almost feel my life ebbing. Although I could not comprehend why it would be, I knew beyond any doubt that whatever the evil presence in my kitchen was it wanted me dead. Time seemed to stand still, and in those few seconds before I heard Romeros voice, I could foresee a world without Sahara Driver, and although few may have missed me, the prospect horrofied me. I was not ready. My unpreparedness was not solely founded by my youth, it was mainly due to the fact that I understood there was something I needed to finish, but like everything else that happened today, I had no clue as to what this task was. As I stabbed at the form in front of me, all the while trying to figure out the voice I kept hearing in my head; where was it coming from, and what kind of being was behind it, there was so much adrenaline pumping through my veins that I thought I was going to pass out. It was only falling on the ground after lunging myself forward at the thing that brought me round. Thank goodness for Romero. Had it not been for his intervention, I would have tried to scramble to my feet, and make my way out of the premises, and no doubt I would have been doomed. I decided and as it turned out rightly so, to heed his advice and stay on the floor face down until the danger was over. I was there for quite a stretch, and during this time I stupidly tried out my powers although nothing extravagant, I just drew the pieces of the broken mug together as a test to see if I honestly could. By this time, I was not in the least surprised when the splintered crockery did as I commanded, I was still as confused. However, confused as I was, the possibility of having such powers excited me. As we speak I am, on my way to France via Southampton with a niggling feeling inside that whatever it is that Romero wants from me is going to involve the entity in the kitchen but still I move on. What else can I do? Without Romero, this thing he calls Barak will find me and I may not be as lucky the next time around, although according to my benefactor my powers are going to increase dramatically I cannot foresee a time when I will be able to be a match for this evil. I can only keep on in the knowledge that I have no other choice and hope that I can be strong enough to face the challenges ahead. I wish I had more time, but I can see the Southampton turnoff now, and I have to find a place to stay for the next few days. Ann H Barlow