Note: This is the second post today,the story is continued (vervolg in Afrikaans). A week before the accident, I was with a friend and we passed this bar named Sid's. I did not know Sid Williams (Willy Sid in my links)until later that year. The place just looked seedy enough to take a photo in front of, it could have been named Nick's or Vince's. Here's the thing, though. The following Saturday, I was wearing everything I had on in that photo, down to the Pancake Pantry cap. I had hair then, it poked through the torn cap after I lay on the ground. The black turtleneck and jacket were shredded by my bones. My copy of Nelson Algren's book lay beneath my right hand as if it was a Bible. In a comment to my post earlier today, Sid his ownself mentioned meeting me at the World Fantasy Convention in Seattle that October. I had my third of nine casts on by then, and damn if I didn't have the strangest wardrobe back then. MIAMI VICE was off the air; maybe they were just offering good deals at Chess King. Well, this brings you up to date on Sidney Williams, one of the finest writers I know, and a guy I'd want at my back if we were fighting a war with zombies, werewolves, or literary agents gone goofy.