Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories

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A Pacific island then… she thought

Let’s move there…
She could feel her ghost body hover, like a feather sucked into a whirlwind.
She had to be confident she’ll snap back right at her lying body when she’ll be over with the trip.
Trust that everything will be okay. As it always were. Will always be.

She could see the Earth from above… The Pacific Ocean, its huge vastness, delimited by coasts of lights.

Oh, of course, she had not thought of that, but it was night there. She could see towns, concentrations of which were twinkling like shiny stars on a dark sky; but she didn’t want towns. Far too crowded, lots of energies that were maybe intoxicating at first, but she could feel she would be worn out in a second.
For, as she traveled in spirit, she had access to so much more information than people usually get with their physical senses alone,… it was hard to explain.

There… in that dark patch, when she moves closer, she can feel the immensity of the ocean surrounding everywhere. She moves closer to that long island that must be New Zealand, because she doesn’t want to be far from any sort of indication of her location. Keeping an eye on this, she spots something which isn’t a city light. It’s dancing, like a fire.
How can she spot a fire at that distance is beyond her understanding, but she has learned not to question, and act upon her impulses.

She wills herself at the fire.

Waves, the peaceful sound of the waves.

Around the fire, she can see a dog, crouched near a thoughtful man; there’s a young girl too, with a little white rabbit in her lap. The girl’s parents are resting in a hug, and a man with a strange energy configuration, the like of which she hasn’t seen, is closing the circle.

What a bunch of interesting people…