The inside was dark. Lights tuned to the low activity of a non-reading level. I was not looking for anything to do, I was happy just to be with her. We were drinking feverfew tea in the fast of night. Buzzing like bees gone silly.The old quoting wheel pointed out to speak my own translation. A weary glance at the television monitor. Vocabulary burning like a cigarette...Evenly she said to me, "Keep right on adding. layers, don't let our love run ragged wearing only the relevant passages of conditions. We know that some others ground the spirit." I thought in rose and brighter colors while showing my unmathematical face. I knew then that I'd always be wide-open to her.
"Look at this," I said relenting to another reality... Our eyes moistened instantly as the Version Cult children awkwardly landed on the pavement. One had survived out of nearly a dozen, the report had said.

The Version cult were anti-choice, but staunch supporters of human sacrifice.We could not understand their paradise, held each other and wept.Signaling the off, the monitor turned gray.

It was time to stimulate sense perception, to clear our minds of outrage...We practiced our intuitive "channels" with surrender. We would do this at random...We had looked at each other after the report and agreed with reddening eyes...It was time...

What defeats me is profoundly difficult to express...The causeway of intention,I am too eager. The key for her is understanding. My willingness helps me understand, but it hurts the geometry of natural intent.

Sometimes I run a comment...Something like: the resolution contains the materials of tomorrow...She knows it, feels it, finds it, and yet every once in a binding limit she will question...Perhaps it is more curiosity rather than a matter of comprehension.

It was a good renewal even if it came at two in the morning.We were in tune. hard music melted through the radio-perforation. She smiled unneedingly...The look of completion in her eyes...It was one of the things she communicated to me during our unsaid time. Prominent meaning seemed to shine from the long, grainy notes of the Restoration & Beyond Band.

She opened the swinging door with silent regularity and waved at me. We danced while eating peppermint nickels. After nuance steps I passed over to the new quoting wheel and spun it proudly to influence dreams with the about to happen paths. We undressed, gathering simple ingredients for sex...Uncomplicated pills and helium wings...

In the hurry up half darkness we arrowed for the simultaneous work...We did it with the simple ingredients and later we did it the old-fashioned way...We slept in an enraptured tiredness.

In the womblike yearning of late morning we awoke and bathed each other, ate salad packed in olive oil and wine which was not enough to ruin the later meal...The factors of the day were barely worth talking about save for the possible excitement of a vintage rainfall. we would see about that, perhaps walk under the unburning waterdrops. Time was nearly filming a late scene...I hurried about wishing her the softest day...

I travel for a large corporation...They take in the anatomy of involved details as I do...Most days I just cannot wait to get back to her...To sip the feverfew tea...To be...

While walking southwest on Influence street, I noticed three women following me...

One was staring with constant lucidity.

I crossed the street so as to not be distracted from my job...They also crossed...Their six eyes approached me turning me into a less than usual calm as I disconnected the involved details pull. the smaller one spoke, "We are from the version cult. We have been asked to contact you." the second continued, "We are wonderful soldiers. Justly involved." The third with the constant lucidity eyes asked, "Won't you congress with us, won't you show us compassion?" Then their voices seemed to mix as I tried to remember how I had felt when hearing of their deeds the night before...

"We cannot help our splendor. many have marked us as exotic. Is your center at rest? Have we made you to panic? In me you can also confess. Would eternity do for you? Listen to our reasons. have you read this book? We know you also write and are obtaining insights. Can we help? We speak of being. How can you ever know freedom? The children we slay are prepared. Can you imagine the feeling and the force of pure destruction? The lesser ones are ended before being thrown. Won't you savor our try-truth? It is very liberating. Don't you want salvation?

I staggered back through Influence street with their voices still resounding in my thoughts...

I thought I had stood well...Silent, nearly strong. still I was worried. they now knew of me. They could reach me again. I could not dismiss this. I began to instinctively produce a series of rationalizations while engaging the furniture carts for answer images...Compassion kept coming up...It was also a word they had used...It was a difficult balance to beat into the meeting of sense.

They killed children. They said so. I had seen the results. They were as lovely as they were unwholesome.

I had, in my rationalizations procured enough strength so as not to be repulsed...

Two things I could do...Join them or take odds with fate... I proposed to wait before turning either keystep. I talked to her about it...She said, "Discomfort comes from the first between. examine this as you would an opportunity, not a withdrawing or surrender situation."

I understood then that I had to join them with a sense of compassion, with the purpose to make them change their ways...

We sat in silence contemplating the spirit of this primitive turbulence...I could do good yet there was the possibility of being overtaken...No...I would make sublime gestures...I would not fail...

I will reverse the sacrificial policy...The next day I was not far along influence street when they came upon me again...

"We know that others ground the spirit. We know the sheer of your intention. We will reverse your opinion. you will not think of our sacrificial policy as murder. I too once neighbored myself to that mindset.controllers will part you of that concern.You will see our mistress and she will enlighten your dualities. You will come to know your outrage as envy. let us embrace."

They surrounded me, they pressed their bodies against mine.I closed my eyes to search for strength. They whispered phrases I could not decipher. the wondering led me to the point of wanting to see them again. I recorded what I could recall on portable Diginet and walked back home. There was something in me unsettled. I could hear her at the quoting wheel.

I needed her. I told her of my encounter. I confessed my attraction. "Embolden your resolve," she averred without hesitation. "The illusions may be many more beyond comparison. let them not hold you again in the indulgence of pulsed embracing."

We prepared feverfew tea, stripped, walked the hand-on circle, and bonded together like puffs of clouds in the identity sex of our passionate sky. An extraordinary mixing.

The orgasm eased away the tension, the thoughts of the Version Cult...Even my attempt at sublime gestures escaped me...

I rested unworried, knowing that she loved me...Watching her sleep.

Two days of ordinary hold went by with the usual meaning. Something in me expected a later contact. It was surely a matter of time. I did not know if i was ready or not.

I was walking Influence street...They were there..."It is time for your initiation."

We packed into an already solared car equipped with sense functions.

The child was half my height. he was bound to a steel weight. I was told they were trying a new method...In a moment it seemed we were atop an uptown structure. the mistress said in an unrelenting voice, "The all external we subject new transformation." Nothing more was said, the push of just so, the distant sound of falling...A faraway thump.

I lowered my head. a feeling of loss wandered through me without fashion.I wanted to throw them all down in a follow-through freedom...I looked at the mistress...The three women that had been contacting me neared saying,"We sense your rage. Now you are ready."

I could not look directly at the first child.

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