When I read King's "The Stand" I pictured people crucified in the electric posts along the highway. I imagine birds pecking at their heads as the sunset sets in. I heard in my head the whirring sound of a motor bike puttering along the highway. It felt normal, and yet foreign. I reminisced of Planet of the Apes forbidden zone with the furry warning effigies. The bongos, the drums, the ocean waves deafening sound as bright eyes falls on his knees. It felt like an eternity. Then I turned the page.