Lion Head Mesa tungsten

He was in and out of focus.

What is this place? If Raimo had been told its name he had forgotten it; he spoke dreamily now, and maybe repeated his questions in a distant tone, forgetting in the moments in-between what he was thinking or why, except he had many questions.

They cast me out; I forget, yesterday, or if it was... full moon? No, a frown, and he recites some bit of poetry from when he was a child, but not loudly, and moves on again to ask, This place is... Dark, but better. The last one was hot...

He made no sense.