Chapter Nine
I’m afraid to go to sleep; afraid of what I might dream, what I might see. Too many terrors are forecast and I anticipate at least nightmares.
Eventually, tiredness dictates that I must shut my eyes. I have to sleep. I ask for kindness, to be shielded, to just sleep soundly.
When sleep comes, it is not nightmares that flood my mind, but a picture of myself lying still in sleep, wrapped in silvery sheets. It is not just an image. I’m out of my body, looking down. There’s no electrical current aiding my travel and yet I’ve done it again, lifted out of myself. Eager to make use of the opportunity, I think of Nattalia, will myself there.
It happens. In the twilight sky sit three pinkish moons; three discs of pastel light.
Tearing my eyes from their beauty, I scan the planet’s
