Visions
The Shepherd Book II
A Novel by Jeffrey B. Linn
All rights reserved

Chapter IX

Yet my lids' closure became portals to another nightmare. I was suddenly at the helm of a horseless coach, encased in iron, careening down a wide alley of smooth pumice. How this sudden change of venue had been affected I knew not. I only knew that for the moment I lived wholly as an autochthonous being in this odd universe. Other charmed carriages raced about me, flitting perilously close. We passed lights like stars exploding and, a wreck, a heap of twisted metal smoldering, not slowing our pace a whit. I cursed the others, for they held me off from my goal--whatever it was. Then it formed in my thoughts. The lantern! I was getting to it with deadly haste. I felt the urge for its defiled feeding.

Then my soul, still on the floor of that hovel, with woe de-activated. I shrieked. And the feeling of the carpet on my face altered, fibers becoming blades of grass. I felt a breeze. I was on the steppe! But the transmutation did not sway my purpose. Still I held my head to the turf and screamed out to the One.

After a time, I sensed something . . . a presence. Opening my eyes, I beheld a pleasant glow on the sod.

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