Stalking Vol 2: The Bridge of Reason
The man pointed toward Bonnie, as she settled into a dream state. "Yesterday, she learned
that you will enter the third core of your training on perpetual guard, and afraid of what she
might say, because on the best of nights you will go to bed baffled to the bone."
"And on the worst?"
"That is up to you. She is not without empathy for your plight, for she has endured your
lessons as well as her own," he pointed at Bonnie, "and has now wept the last of her personal
concern for you. She will no longer barter with the truth. None of us do, not with anyone, not
ever. It will be the way things are in her waking world, and a lesson you cannot avoid now that
you have begun losing the human form." He glanced my way. "She will pursue your freedom
with unwavering intent."
"She bartered? I know something happened… with Josh?"
"She will tell you when it is time."
"I hear that a lot from you guys. Who are you, by the way?"
"Another portion of you, a personality that is now part of you, knew me as Joshua. This
inner knowledge will sustain you for a while longer, and rise when it is time." He nodded toward
the images. "We will also show you to yourself directly, when it is required, and offer what help
we can without interfering with your chosen path of progression."
I followed his gaze as the images swirled gently into a single depiction of Bonnie and me
driving in a small red car. A road sign passed through the passenger side window.
Salida, 3 kilómetros.
I awakened thinking pleasant thoughts about my time in Spain, but they were fouled by a
sense of apprehension; I remembered most of my dream, just not why I should be on edge about
it. I got up and steeled myself for another verbal beating while showering, flippantly concluding,
as I dried myself, that the worst that could happen was what—maybe dying? Been there, done
that. I had the T-shirt.
I cackled: somehow, it wasn’t as funny as it once was.
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