October 17, 2011

Sketch – Second Trip through the Meditation Globe

Filed under: Sketches — cnwood @ 7:55 am
Tags: , ,

(After arriving at Edith’s home Debra succumbs to the black rage and Edith accidently stops the rage by shoving the meditation globe a few inches from Debra’s eyes)

Colors blended—pale amethyst invading deeper blue, merging into wispy strands of black. Somehow Debra was back in the mysterious domain of the globe. And like before, all sense of time and dimension were lost. Void of physical substance, instinct warned that resistance was pointless.

The mind’s eye remained vigilant, instantly aware when darkness thinned, brightening into shades of gray.

Just beyond the shifting mist, they waited for her. Thousands of black haired, black eyed men and women, their similar jumpsuits blending like camouflage against the dimensionless, gray atmosphere.

Thousands of minds gave welcome. Her consciousness staggered under the unbearable onslaught of thoughts and images begging for hope, crying in fear. Protective barriers were useless. With no control or defenses, Debra helplessly waited for awareness to rupture into oblivion . . .


Compliance to the telepathic command was instant. The multitude of judgments and feelings receded as one, leaving a sense of indebted esteem.

The ranks of men and women parted and Kalon approached. And with their minds linked once more, he filled Debra with his strength and love. His tender kiss lifted from her lips. Debra was startled to have actually felt the sensation; to once again see with her eyes and fingertips as well as the perception in her mind.

Kalon pressed a finger against his lips for silence, stepping to one side, watching her searching eyes settle on the small group of children.

Their beauty took Debra’s breath away. Fragile little faces filled with delightful acceptance. And a strength of will that seemed so much more controlled than the adults that hovered protectively around them. Large black eyes revealed an innocent curiosity, their smiling lips sweetly mouthing her name.

A young girl, no more than five or six, tucked her fingers into Debra’s hand and beamed when thoughts and energy merged between them. Ruthie was pulled back to rejoin the other bubbly youngsters.

Debra’s smile quickly fell, though, as the truth became painfully clear: Ruthie and the other children were dying.

She glanced over her shoulder for Kalon’s help but nothing remained but gray mist. “Kalon,” she called out telepathically. “Don’t leave.”

The mist receded and darkness fell, for a moment or a week there was no way to tell. Then blackness alter into shades of blue and time and space became relative once more with the unmistakable hum of Edith’s vexed muttering, the feel of the sofa beneath her back, the smell of coffee and dust in the air.

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