On the Road to Damascus

mmmlFerdinand Celine appears as a cross between Diogenes and Nietzsche. But with
wings. They are large brown dingy unkempt things. He is being held captive in an
underground cavern, chained to a huge boulder. When he finally frees himself, he tosses
his tormentors into the deep, a bottomless underground ocean that crashes dramatically
just below the promontory where he was being held. He has to get to Damascus in a
hurry. No one will stop to offer him a ride. Every time he sticks out his thumb, his huge
wings overshadow it. In the distant orange haze, the turrets and minarets of the ancient
city.

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