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Rosicrucians, Rabbits and Revelations

By Robert Adair Wilson

Copyright 2010 Robert Adair Wilson - Cover by Leslie Slova Wilson

Published by Robert Adair Wilson at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Darby Williams lay in bed on his back eyes squinted at the ceiling waiting for the last flashes of his dream to finish. He felt the cold air spill down in waves from the closed window above his head chilling his skin as the predawn light slowly gave form and depth to his room. He knew that soon his sister, Willow, or his brother, Bennie, unceremoniously pounding at his door, would yell it was time to get up; he was late again. He exhaled faintly listening as his voices pushed out their words. He couldn't make images of what they were saying this time although he was usually able to think in pictures. The voices were disembodied, faceless fading in and out, talking heads out of view. Images before were mostly disjointed like poorly shot video, a circus merry-go-round effect or people in box seats passing as on a track, the clacking sound of a stick on a picket fence, a stiff piece of cardboard playing against the spokes of a bicycle, a tall building like a steeple in an arid setting with a red cross and a yellow rose embossed on it. Then, suddenly, all was chaos and shouting, screaming, nothing audibly discernable, just enough to make him feel something had gone terribly wrong.

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