Richard Matheson was one of a small handful of science fiction/fantasy writers whose profound, subtle prose elevated the genre to sublime eloquence. He was one of my very favorite writers from childhood until the present. Along with Lovecraft, Bloch, Bradbury, Clarke and, more recently, James Herbert, these writers influenced my life more significantly than I will ever be able to adequately impart. He was a poet who was blessed with the gift of imagination. I had the honor of meeting him once very briefly in Crystal City, Virginia, at Forry Ackerman's 1993 Famous Monsters convention. We both shared a long friendship with Robert Bloch. One of my proudest possessions is a photograph taken of the three of us at that wonderful convention. His sensitivity and grace dwelt in the ethereal, as evidenced by the haunting vocal soliloquy voiced by Robert Scott Carey during the unforgettable final moments of "The Incredible Shrinking Man..."

"I looked up, as if somehow I would grasp the heavens. The universe, worlds beyond number, God's silver tapestry spread
across the night. And in that moment I knew the answer to the riddle of the infinite. That existence begins and ends is
man's conception, not nature's. And I felt my body dwindling, melting, becoming nothing. My fears melted away, and in their
place came acceptance. All this vast majesty of creation, it had to mean something. And, then, I meant something too. Yes,
smaller than the smallest, I meant something too. To God, there is no zero. I still exist."

In your vast majesty of creation, Mr. Matheson, you still exist. Your words shall continue to breathe life into this often drab, mortal plane of creative thought and energy for as long as meaning and beauty endure. To God, there is no zero. You shall ever continue to create...in our hearts, and in our thoughts. Rest well, for true existence has only just begun...Somewhere In Time.

Steve