Phorzhicoa Collective – Part One (Remote Viewing) #6
by Cherie Ann Turpin
(30 Stories in 30 Days)
The first time she became aware of their existence, she was sitting at a bus stop reading the local alt newspaper, the City Paper, while waiting for the L2 to take her to Van Ness Metro. It “felt” like a pair of eyes looking at her thoughts.
No voices, no face. Just eyes.
The pair of eyes blinked as it “watched” for her stream of words, thoughts, and images to flow back and forth like her bloodstream across her brain. Then it seemed that an audience of watchers was viewing her thoughts like it was a movie. She felt as though a crowd of people were picking through her mind, picking through memories, stray ideas. Her spirit guide whispered one word to her late one night before she fell asleep: thief. She dreamed of burning piles of paper and dry leaves swirling up before her in a pillar of smoke and ash. She jumped up and shook her head, murmuring the word, repeatedly, her hands clenching and straining.
Her spirit guide whispered one more word before falling silent: impulse. She felt herself breathing slower, more deliberate, as if with purpose and intention. She closed her eyes and “erased” the unfinished sentences, fragments of memory, and pictures that could be retrieved by the watchers. A blank screen and static remained. The audience of eyes faded.
She uses TM to quiet her mind now.
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