Astral Andie is Angry

“How long has it been…since I closed my eyes?” I asked.

The medical technician sitting beside my cot offered me a business-like smile and said, “Just about thirty-seven minutes.”

I frowned.  It had felt longer to me.  Almost two hours.  I had a crick in my neck.  The cot wasn’t very comfortable.  They didn’t want me to accidentally fall asleep.  I sat up and swung my legs around so I was sitting at the edge of the cot.

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The Telescope of True Sight

“Ours is a family of seers,” Gran would say, before she began one of her tales. “But like everyone we can choose whether to look or not to look.”

Then she would tell us, a varied collection of her grandchildren, of what she had seen when she chose to look. We’d listen raptly as she told us stories about all the odd items in her collection of treasures from her life. She had the usual things that people had: birth certificate, diplomas, love letters from Grandpa, pictures of her children and grandchildren, books, trophies, vacation souvenirs, and so on.

But she also had things that people typically did not have: a petrified dragon scale, pearlescent flecks from a unicorn horn, a shard from the sword of a giant, a seed from a long-extinct and legendary talking tree, and so on. Every odd treasure of hers had a story to it. And every story was an adventure from her own life.

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