Otherworlds

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I swear I didn’t set out to be one of those New Year resolution guys.  I’ve always thought that if something needs doing or changing then you either do it when it needs to get done, or you don’t, and why should a date on a calendar be the boss of me etc. However since the New Year I’ve just felt in the mood  to change things up.   I lost a lot of weight last year and want to carry on making progress, and just in the last couple of days I felt an inkling to get back to the gym.  I’ve been rising earlier than ever and getting to work about 2 hours earlier than I need to and so I’ve decided to spend one of those hours in the gym near work. Which of course necessitated joining the gym, buying some new clothes to work out in (since all my old stuff is now far too large) and so on. Today was my first session and it felt good but tiring as you’d expect.   I doubt I’ll be able to raise my arms from  the desk by lunchtime. Other stuff that feels good – I’ve decided to start meditating agai

  The pain is everywhere now.   The cords are tight around my arms and my legs, the long cuts on my back from the scourge weep blood, but the pain is no longer confined to arms, or legs, or cuts.   I  am  pain, a fire from head to toe flaring with every beat of my heart… or the drum… and the beat is fast, too fast.    The fire is outside me too, at the edge of the clearing, wood from the ash tree, flames crackling and eager.   The fire in my body longs to be reunited with the fire outside me and if I was not bound I would rush into its heart and be devoured.   The woman I love watches, eyes fearful, brave enough not to comfort me.   I endure. This is not my first journey on behalf of the people.  Since I found my gift in the Summer of Fevers I have journeyed often when there was need.   To find the will of the gods and the other beings who moved unseen in the woods and hills and mountains.  Unseen by most, but I could see them.     The heart drum beats faster and faster and I am sur

The crack in Context hung before my eyes like a twisted thread of blue lightning, frozen immobile.  It was hair-thin but it shone, and as I walked around it the crack always showed me its same shape as though it was superimposed over the scene and how I viewed the scene was irrelevant. The door opened and my boss stalked into the chapel.  Hendry was ex military and bad tempered so I got my defence in early. “Secured the scene, boss,” I told him, “Class Aleph anomaly.  Hasn’t become a full portal yet.” He paced around the crack glaring.   I opened my mouth to apologise for entering the scene alone but he cut me off with a bark. “Maryam!” The third member of our team ran into the room and I smiled just to see her.  Most psionics are a pain in the backside, talking in abstract airy platitudes and vague rambling about auras and feelings.  Maryam was about as airy and vague as a Glock sidearm. “Boss?” “Scan close Context.  Make sure nothing’s come through.” She nodded,  eyes unfocu