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Through the Foam

First off, a bit of strange news.  Because of some things–and, of course, stuff–said on this blog of late, I’ve told my friend Skye Hegyes, whose blog I’ve followed for a while and whom I verbally joust with now and then, that I would do a post on Genesis concerts and where the recordings, bootleg and otherwise, can be found on YouTube.  I’m going to do that Saturday morning, because why not?  It’ll give me a break from having to dream stuff up, and you can see where Kerry gets his knowledge.  In fact, one of the shows I’ll mention became a driving reason for him wanting to get out and about with Annie the first time they were alone in London . . .

Depression wasn’t that bad last night, but it’s still there.  This has been the longest stretch I’ve had, going on about two weeks now, but I think I’m getting out of it.  Think.  It doesn’t make for a good time of things at home, let me tell you.  And tonight I need to run out and get my face zapped, so I imagine this evening’s session isn’t going to go  well.  I may just opt for ninety minutes and ask to have my brows cleaned up.  We’ll see.  I am not dreading the moment tonight, but I’m not looking forward to it, either.

And so there was writing . . . just under seven hundred words, because I’m making up stuff like crazy now, and finding the correct descriptive words is a pain in the butt.  It all came out pretty much correct, and so we find out how Annie did with her art crafting–not to be confused with arts and crafts . . .

 

(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

Annie opened her eyes upon a featureless gray room filled with swirling tendrils of blues, lilacs, pinks, and purples. Her first thought was that perhaps she wasn’t really standing in her dreamspace, but rather, she was dreaming normally, and this was the way things were supposed to appear. While she wore she wasn’t laying in bed, but nether were an indication that she was dreamwalking instead of simply dreaming.

There was only one way to make certain. She pinched the soft skin under her jaw between two fingernails and squeezed. Annie jumped as she gave a slight yelp of pain. She chuckled a moment later when the realization hit that she really did need to pinch herself to see if she were dreaming . . .

The moment of disorientation past, she examined her surroundings. This was her raw, unformatted dreamspace, and in some ways it reminded her of flying over and through the clouds after reaching the summit of the Mile High Flight. She was surrounded by haze and mist which she knew was actually elements of energy found floating about in the Astral Realm. Everything presented itself in soft pastels and muted colors. Though she couldn’t see structure around her, Annie was certain, based upon what she’d read, that there were physical confines to her dreamspace, and there were walls of some kind on all on sides. She saw her bare feet, and while she could feel contact with the bland, flat, bluish-white surface upon which she stood, she couldn’t actually see the point of contact. It amazed her that she felt herself standing upon a floor, but she didn’t actually see herself standing there.

The light was indirect and seemed to come from everywhere. She didn’t feel hot or cold, and the only sound was a far-off whisper of light wind which shouldn’t be possible as weather didn’t exist inside the Astral Realm. Annie read once that the dreaming mind couldn’t deal with complete silence, so it invented the breeze that was heard but never felt. She wasn’t interested in the local conditions: she couldn’t dreamwalk her own dreams, as she wasn’t dreaming.

 

Here’s the thing with make up stuff that doesn’t exist:  as a writer you’re trying not to copy something that’s been done to death, but at the same time you don’t want to make things too bizarre or unusual that people go, “That can’t happen,” and kick their suspension of disbelief right to the curb.

I see the Astral Realm as something akin to limbo, but with energy floating on the astral breeze that Annie hears in the distance.  As for dreamspace, it’s a canvas for your subconscious–or, if you’re a dreamwalker, for your imagination.  Annie and Kerry have shown some control over their dream environment, and with a little practice Annie will be able to start Lucid Walking, which opens up a lot of options in the Lands of Nod.

With all this said, it’s time to get down to business.

 

She was right: Annie rose straight up for what felt like a hundred meters and bumped against—something. It wasn’t hard, not like the floor. This surface was much like a heavy foam. She pushed her right hand into the mass and watched it become encased and blurry: once her elbow began vanishing into the foam she pushed her left hand through and pulled herself inside.

Once she was fully encased within the walls of her dreamscape she moved through the astral foam in a way much like swimming, only with a bit more resistance. Annie wasn’t the least bit surprised that she could breathe: technically there wasn’t any air here, even though it felt like she was breathing. She pushed her hands to the side and tried to fly through, but she found it still necessary to push away the substance that make up the exterior of her dreamscape.

A few seconds later the substance faded away, and she found herself in an environment of small, glistening lights, momentary crackles of energy, and diffused violet light. Annie was outside her dreamspace, floating free in the Astral Realm.

At last she was dreamwalking.

And away she goes.

And away she goes.

In time there distinctions will get made between Dreamwalking and Astral Projection and, later, Astral Walking.  This is the start of that right now, and it won’t be long before we start getting peeks behind the curtain–literally.

Yep.  It’s a whole new world now.

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