I lost my sight when I was 12 and sick with rheumatic fever.  My parents got me Tobias, my seeing-eye dog, 6 months later.  The visions started at the same time. It’s not that I can see exactly, I can sense the presence of “things”.  Normally everything is “black”, but other times I get this photo negative view that melts into view. I know it not true sight because the way the images flare and fade with a ripple inducing nausea. 

Night has fallen

The time of which I speak has happened long ago, or is still far, far away. For you, -the reader,- it is your changing position in time that makes placing what you are about to hear in a specific local of the clock irrelevant. So, I shall not. For time is fluid, like water; it can be moved, shaped and even frozen in stasis. But time still remains the same. As water always finds its level, so does time. Obstacles are only temporary and soon water/time proceeds on its destined path. Therefore there is no harm in releasing this information to those whose future this maybe. For they may slow or divert time, but they will never, ultimately, stray time from its appointments. And these so called changers of the future, unwittingly become pawns of the game and therefore prove themselves the cogs they are and not the gods they wish to be.

So read on intrepid one and see the secrets unfold, unfolding like a new dawn....

“So you’re saying the voices in your head started after your epileptic surgery?” The man’s voice was bland and disinterested. Seeming to take the interview as a checkbox on his list of duties.

He thinks you are nuts.

“Yes, sir.”

Bobby sat slouched in the hard wooden chair. The small room’s harsh light amplified by the stark white walls and the gloss of the mottled linoleum flooring. The man, his court appointed lawyer, sat across the table from Bobby shuffling through the court reports and handwritten notes that were neatly arranged in front of him.

The man pulled a page out of his personal notes pile, referred to it briefly and spoke again, “You think that the Epi-chip has a virus?”

I’m NOT a virus. I’m as real as anyone in this room.

“That’s one explanation, sir.”

“Is that the one I should take seriously?”

Is this meat sack the best the local government can afford?

“That’s the best of the bunch, sir. If you don’t go with ‘totally insane’.”

You’re not helping your own cause.

“Considering what I have to work with here,” the lawyer looks up from his notes and looks Bobby in the eyes. “Bobby, I have notes and court papers here documenting your behavior and you claim they are coming from voices. Voices, that you claim, have taught you how to move objects telepathically. An insanity plea is my most logical choice.”

He’s going to let you hang, Bobby. Get a new lawyer.

“I completely understand, sir.”

“So what’s Daniel saying about me?”

Hey, this guy knows?

“Excuse me, sir?”

“You don’t hide it well enough. You look like you are having two conversations at once.”

Hmm…He’s sharper than he dresses.  I like this guy now.

“Daniel doesn’t think you’ll mount a proper defense for me, sir”

“Heh. Just remember, son. Daniel doesn’t know everything.”

Huh?!

“Uh, I don’t follow you, sir.”

Taps side of head. “Some Daniel’s are built better than others, son”

 

Is there a difference between love typed or love written?
As much as, say, being caught or being bitten?
I think that no difference does exist,
Like a loving hold or loving tryst.

Kukoc space port is not the best place in the Remoluc Quadrant to be stranded, but considering the size of the storm surrounding the Gentry’s personal life - any port would do right now. Gentry sat with his back to the bar, drink in hand, staring at the travelers, pilots and assorted riff-raff move through the dank establishment. A police droid hovered silently through bar, its telephoto eye scanning the bar populace.

Well, Gentry thought slugging back the last of his drink back, if its any time to test the remade face - now’s the time.