Where are all the people I used to see on the street, where are all the cars and trucks, where are all the people that used to walk by storefronts and houses? The city is empty, the city is vacant--there are no more filthy prostitutes on the streets, there are no more porn shops or groceries or drunks standing on the corner. No one is here, I am the only one here--what is this strange place, how did I get here? I don't see a single person, I don't see a soul and I am here all alone; then slowly I begin to see the people again; they are phantoms, shapes, colors that appear to me by an unknown cause and reason; indeed, I am the only one who is real, who is alive. If I wander far enough away from the place I am I will see only movie sets for houses and stores, only movie sets for office buildings and bars. Denver encompasses the world--and the world is small. It does not stretch on and on but ends a few dozen miles from where I am; I am at the center of the world, and all the news I hear of places like Florida, California, Mexico and Canada are bits of false information--lies meant to fool me. For these are all movie sets and all the people I see about me are actors--Denver is the only place that exists in the world, and this small world was created to imprison and torment me. The whole world is a system of lies meant to fool me; all the information I get about any other place in the world is manufactured here in Denver and handed to me in the form of colors coming from my TV, books and newspapers found in stores, lights coming from my computer. All these lies were made to fool me, and everyone I see is in on it, all these people are in on it. So I walk up to a man in a McDonald's and say, "I know what you're doing, I know all about it," and he grows flustered and says, "Leave me alone." For I have seen the secret, and he is guarding the secret. There is no other city (the world ends at Denver's limits); there is no other part of the world, the planet Earth is a lie, Japan and France are lies--this is all a manufactured bit of fiction, and it all has been manufactured by the Sandman, who is a god, my evil genius who has made all this up and created me to suffer and be fooled.