That ' s just random . Trials does not match based on skill the way regular crucible does . <| sep |> It was true that the note that I had left him at the seventy year mark was gone , but at the same time , I couldn ' t complain . I wasn ' t having any additional symptons and I found myself completely able to control my faculties . In fact , it seemed too good . We are taught to enjoy our smallest pleasures . But what if those pleasures make a fairy tale ? No one ever gets that . And thus , when I dreamed , I dreamed an odd scene . I ' m sitting in a chair , a comfortable weathered chair , originally leather , deep within the seat . I have a cigar and a whiskey in my hands , a table to my side with my wife , my grand children . Even my three sons and daughter are there . But not Barbara , we don ' t speak to her . A man approaches in the distance . He wears a tall hat , not a fedora , not a bowlers hat , but an old shining top hat . No , nevermind , it ' s glossy . Approaching , the man comes with a friendly smile , as if he has known me his entire life , but I have never seen him before these dreams . The dream keeps returning , with the odd man ever stranger . He becomes ever familiar , almost within speaking distance . It ' s an odd sensation , but as he comes closer , I sense a strange power to him . Then my epilepsies happened more often . In the dream , it was my only solace , looking at this kind man . He gave me a sort of comfort , something to look forward . But everytime I spoke , he would put a finger up to his lips as to make me wait until we were closer enough to whisper . It gave me such happiness to be in a state of calm tranquillity . I sought to repay him . One day while napping , I happened to come upon the man ' s path in a dream . Quickly , I wrote out an address , time and date where the man might learn to dance . In my youth , I was one of those happy folk that was always in a happy jumping mood , something of a groovefinder , a funkadelic man of my age . A Swinger . Not in the adulterous kind , but the one that shared the dancefloor with his feet , to those in the crowd with bobby heads , those envious dolls . But it had been three weeks . Three weeks absence of the top hat man in my dreams . Perhaps it ' s a sign for the better . Sometimes , I get happy feet and shuffle my feet until I lose my breathe . All I know is I want to swing again .