Saturday, March 23, 2013


        “Let me tell you my story. I am the observer, I am Hardly. I am a shape shifter. You will see me in your dreams. I can be whomever you seek. You will feel me before you see me. I evolve from the trees, I am the grounding element. I will guide you.
        When I am with you, you can be fearless, because you know that I am observing. You can dis-attach for I am on guard.
        I have always been. There are no beginning and no end. I am the Dreamwalker. I give you puzzles, I bring you questions. You shall seek me in times of trouble and in times of glory. I am always with you, you are not alone.
       There are times of learning approaching. You will use me to help others. You will learn to be me, you will learn how to walk into the dreams of others.”
-: Rosie’s dream
        I feel your arm around me, it feels so good. You have strong hands, you have a powerful wrist, you have a gentle touch. I close my eyes again and dive back into the dream, the dream of you and me.
        I am looking at a gauge. The indicator, that little arrow, is moving back and forth. It is “on”, 90%, 95%, it swoops down to 70%. I gaze at it hypnotically, watching the needle bounce up and down.
        Then, it drops, smoothly gliding from 95% across the numbers to 0%, no more. It is dark. I am watching the gauge, the tip of the arrow transforms into an insect. It crawls away across the panel. I wake up, and you are gone.
-: excerpt from Rosie’s dream diary.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

"The Jays," assorted excerpts about the Jays.

“Joe, Joe, look here.” The voice came from all around him. He rolled onto his back and settled into a fitful sleep. What was happening? That voice seemed so real.

“Joe, use your mind’s eyes.” Rosie allowed herself to take shape; slowly a form appeared in Joe’s dream. She decided to take the male form of “Hardly”, one of the characters in the game that Joe would start to write the next day.
            Joe lay still, the snoring evened out as his breathing slowed. He was in the zone; he could see the shape coalescing in front of him. His logical mind stepped back, and his heart mind opened. He allowed this new energy permission to be in his dream.
“Who, huh, what are you?” Joe addressed the image in his dream.
Rosie almost burst out laughing, as she imagined what she looked like. Now she would have to speak with Hardly’s voice; she cleared her throat, and thought “deeper.”
            “I am Hardly. I am a leader. There are many followers. You will create my world.”
            “Hardly? You’re Hardly there.”
            “I guess that is how I got my name.” Rosie nodded.                   
            She continued, “There is a great myth about destruction and salvation. This myth will come to pass on the Winter solstice in 2012. You must write a game to teach the others how to survive. You will have many fans, you will call them disciples. I shall be their leader”
            “Write a game, yeah, right. Write a game, ok.” Joe rolled over. ”What’s the name?” His thought stream began to wander. Rosie saw the image of a chocolate ice cream cone coming into focus. She focused her energy a little keener, and sent out the message “The Dreamwalker.” Rosie could see him stirring; she quickly realized that she was no longer in his dream and that he was waking up.
            She had done it. She had travelled back through time and inspired Joe to write his game, “The Dreamwalker.” Now she understood the name. She was the Dreamwalker, she was Hardly. She went on deck and sat in the cock-pit of her boat, looking out into the sky, and wondered what other talents she had acquired that night out at Boca Grande.

            Joe stirred, he rolled over, he snorted, his eyes opened. He sat bolt upright. He grabbed a pen and paper and started to write. It was early morning. After jotting down 3 pages of notes, he lay down again. The ideas swirled in his brain. There was no way that he could sleep. He sat up again, and grabbed his phone. He scrolled down the list of contacts until he saw Jake, his partner in arms, his twin brother, and his best friend. He jabbed at the call button and waited, listening to the soft purr of the ringing tones. He was making connections. He was creating. He was on fire.
            “Huh!” the voice was garbled on the other end, it was still early.
            “Jake, come here. I need you!” the classic line; if it was good enough for Alexander Graham Bell, it was good enough for him. It wasn’t the telephone that he had invented; it was a discovery. It was taking the telephone to the 5th dimension. It was being able to walk into someone’s dream, and talk with them. He was sure that his dream was imaginary; little did he realize.
            Joe made the coffee; he drank the coffee; he paced the floor; he made some more coffee; he looked at his watch. Twenty minutes. “Jake lives 20 minutes away, he should be here soon.” he thought.
            He went to the desk and looked at his notes. There was a rambling to them. Could he even decipher the letters, what was this all about? He only felt the surge of creative excitement. He only felt the surge, the need, to share this with the rest of him, his brother. He walked to the window and looked out.
            It was still dark. “Sunrise is late this time of year.” He thought. Then he saw lights moving on the horizon. He was living at the end of the road to nowhere; the road to the end of the island. No one came there unless they were selling something or they were invited. He eagerly watched until Jake’s van appeared through the mangroves. Joe opened the door and waited. Jake would never believe this dream.


            “Joe, what’s the idea of waking me in the middle of the night?”
            “You aren't going to believe this, but I had a dream.”
            “Yeah; you and Martin Luther King.”
            “Well his dream was a little more difficult to realize than mine. Mine is about the end of the world.”
            “What are you talking about?” Jake stepped into the RV and looked around. There was clutter everywhere except on the computer desk. There Joe had perfect order. There were pieces of paper lined up; Jake walked over and picked up the top one. “The Dreamwalker, what’s this about?”
            “That’s why I called you. I had this dream.”
            “Yea, we know about that.”
            “But you don’t know about the dream. There was this guy; he called himself Hardy or Dandy, no Hardly. I thought that was funny because he was hardly there. Anyway, he said that I would write a game about the end of the world, like apocalypse kind of thing in December 2012, and that he would be the guide and that, and that the game would be called Dreamwalker, and that I would have thousands of fans, maybe millions, and that I would call them disciples.
            Jake sat down, and picked up the empty coffee mug on the table, he looked into it, and looked back at his brother, “Any more coffee? We got some brain stormin to do.”
            “So you like the idea?”
            “You betcha!”


Canadian Thanksgiving, Key West October 9, 2006.
            “G’ma, are you ready? Why are having the Jays over for Thanksgiving and it isn’t even near Thanksgiving? That’s crazy.” Roz was looking out the window, looking for her uncles. 
“Yeah, I know. It’s Thanksgiving in Canada, and that’s where I was living when they were born. Since I moved here I have been celebrating this Thanksgiving in honor of my northern home.” G’ma peeked into the BBQ. It was much too hot for roasting a turkey in the oven. So these turkeys have been roasted in the BBQ.
“Were you there when momma was born?”
“I certainly was, that makes you part Canadian and part American; you are a citizen of North America and the world.”
“Goodie, we are North Americans, and we have a continent for play.”
“You sure do.”
Rosie ran over and jumped onto the chair with Roz. “Hey, get your own continent” Roz joked. She opened the window and leaned her head out. “Hey, I hear something outside.” G’ma joined them at the bay window and looked out on to the tropical street. Two men were locking their bikes to the iron fence. “It’s the Jays,” the girls danced together.
“Well, open the door for them.”
The girls ran to the door, and opened it wide. Joe and Jake climbed the steps and smiled as they saw the girls there to welcome them. Since G’ma had moved to Key West, Canadian Thanksgiving had become a usual part of their year. They would gather at Cary’s house with the family and enjoy turkey, turnip, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie and broccoli. Now broccoli isn’t a traditional dish, it just grew so well in October, that G’ma had to serve it to honor the harvest gods. That was her tradition.
“Hey Uncle Joe, Uncle Jake,” sang Rosie and Roslyn as they ran out the door and jumped into their arms; the sound of twins greeting twins was the sound of welcome chimes on the front door.
“Come on in boys. Are you ready for a feast?” G’ma greeted her twin sons with a huge smile and a warm hug. 
“You betcha Mom,” Jake said as he held the door for everyone to enter. “Is Cary here this year?”
“He couldn’t make it back. He called on the satellite phone and apologized. He has a big charter, and they don’t care about our celebrations, it’s a long week-end for them.”
They sat down and devoured the meal. After dinner, they would play games. Tonight the game was a little different.
”Mom, tonight I want to play a different game. I am writing a survival guide kind of game for after the shift in 2012.” Jake said.
“What are you talking about?”
 “You know the planetary alignment: the alignment with the center of the galaxy on the winter solstice in 2012; the opening of the portal to the center of the universe, that kind of stuff.”
“Tell me more”
“Aren’t you familiar with the Mayan calendar and all of the disastrous predictions around the end of that calendar? It’s supposed to be the end of the world.” Joe explained. 
“Yeah, and Joe is going to write a game to teach people how to survive the ‘apocalypse.’” Jake made quotes in the air.
“Yeah Mom, and I want your help.” Joe added. 
“How can I help? What can I do?”
“Well, you lived back in the woods when we were young, and ran the house on mostly homemade and home grown stuff, so I thought that you might help me get together a list to start; stuff that everyone will need to get through that first winter after the crash of civilization.”
“Well, that’s easy. First you need good seeds; the best that you can get. Then you need some staples, you know beans and rice, some canned good’s maybe some salmon, and foods that are non-allergenic; maybe almonds, almond butter.” G’ma paused in thought. “Why do you need this?”
“I am going to make like a scavenger hunt, and get everyone who joins the game to get these things. It might be good just in case the end does really come.”
“Yeah, He’s going to create a need and I’m going to sell all this stuff to these chumps.” says Jay.
“Whadda ya mean chumps?” Joe shot back.
“Yeah, chumps, anyone who believes this end of the world stuff is a chump. Hell, I don’t expect it to happen in our life time.” Jay and Joe argued.
“Well mom, what else will we need?” continued Joe.
“What do you mean ‘we’?” G’ma felt surprised.
“Well, we’re gonna need a place to go when the world ends, so I might as well set it up so that you have a place for us to hide.”
“Really; and what if I don’t want to play this game?”
“Well, I thought that when Jay starts making money with my game and your list, that we would build you a log cabin back on the old homestead.”
“Oh Joe, that’s too much.”
“Mom, it isn’t just for you. I want a safe place to hide. I will see about getting you set up so the family, all of us, have a place, just in case.”
“Joe, you are a good boy.”
“Ok then, what else will we need?”


How can I tell you about these boys, the twins I mean. We thought it was a joke, Joe and Jake, you know Joe the joke and Jake the jerk. We never said it in front of them, but they seemed to read our minds as they played out these roles through most of their lives.
Joe, he is, was, has been yeah, has been a joke, living in that moldy basement writing computer games – computer games! There was no future in computer games. And he gave them away! All you had to do was sign up and he would give you a game. He called it “The Dreamwalker -What to do at the end of the world.” What a joke, the end of the world, phooey!
Anyway, he got a huge list of names, he called them disciples. He wrote this ….game, and then he told these disciples how to play it, and each time that they reached what he called the sanctuary, they would graduate to a higher level, like: hound, guide, trainee, referee.
But they kept playing; they kept getting their friends to play, who would have thought. 
- Grace Eliza May, August 2012.


“Woo-hoo, I did it Jake, I hit a million disciples” Joe was dancing around in his basement room, wearing his “Family Guy” T-shirt and faded jeans, Blue tooth stuck on his ear, sharing his excitement with his brother, “Just today, someone in California registered. His user id is ‘Crater.’ He is one million.” Joe’s voice was heard over the phone. Living in a basement, the cell was always cutting out.  
Jakes face lit up. He could see the dollars rolling in. To heck with the end of the world, he was getting fat selling all the stuff that these disciples bought.
“Great. Now with this flooding in New York, you gotta put another level into the game, so they can become something like, I don’t know, a Turtle. You know, they have survived for such a freaking long time. That would play into the survival theme.”
“Sure, then you could sell them all scuba gear, right?”
“Good idea, and rubber rafts, and oars, and raft repair kits, and flares, all kinds of stuff. “
            “We’re gettin rich offa my game.” “Right, and it pays our bills, and we built that log cabin back in the woods for Gemma.”
            “You better haul ass out there and see if she’s ready for the solstice. I think she’s taking a bunch of her friends down to the old mine entrance. You gotta check, see if it’s safe.”
            “Yeah, I was heading out there for the week end. You come too?”
            “Nah, the solstice is too soon, I have to make sure that the disciples are ready, and know what to do when IT happens.”
            “When was the last time that you went out there?”
            “House warming, 2 years ago.”
            “When was the last time you were out of that basement?”
            “Yesterday I went to Tim’s for a coffee and to get a copy of the paper, so I could see how they made out in New York. IT’s started you know. Some of the adherents have been reporting to the game host how their new skills gave them a real advantage. I need to spend more time fixin it… I need to spend more time” Joe’s voice trailed off. Jake knew that Joe’s mind had gone back into his virtual reality, and ended the call.


            When Jake drove up to the log cabin, he could see his grandmother in the garden, raking leaves over the garlic bed. They were doing really well, and she was making sure to have a great crop in the spring. They had done miracles with the old homestead. The original house had been abandoned for too many years to use or repair. The log cabin was perfect. The wood lot had supplied the logs, and the money gained from the sale of survivalist supplies had paid for the labor. A big organic garden, lots of wood for heat, a spring up hill for gravity fed water, a windmill on top of the hill, solar water heaters, and that old mine over the cliff on the river bank, made this the perfect spot for the family to have a safety net… a hiding place.
            “Hey Mom, need any help in the garden?”
            “Jake, you always turn up just when the work is done. What great timing you have.” Gemma chuckled.
            “I plan it that way.”
            “Come on in, dinner’s almost ready. I know that you love my lasagna.”
            “More good timing” Jake chuckled.
            Jake was Grace’s favorite, three sons, and Jake was the most affectionate, the one most like her. He still hasn't settled down, still hasn't given her a grandson. She let that thought go, there’s time. Still, she has 2 wonderful granddaughters.
            Jake came out to see Grace every few days, making sure that she has everything that she needs, and making sure all the gadgets still operate, in case…The cabin was a half hour drive from town on dirt roads most of the way, not much traffic went by here. Not many people knew that it was here, and most of them were hiding in the woods themselves. The “Back to the Land” generation had borne a generation ready to hide and defend.

The Dreamwalker - The Last post – 121220: 6:32 am.
Are you ready? The countdown has begun. In just a couple of hours the galactic alignment will end the Piscean age and life as we know it.
Are you ready? Do you have your supplies stocked in a safe area, safe from marauders, safe where you will find them?
Are you ready? Have you tested your radios? Do you know how your skip will bounce? Have you shared your intention with your loved ones?
Are you ready? Have you built a safe zone, a place to spend the hours before and after the cosmic blast from the center of the universe?
Most of them believe that this cataclysm will happen tomorrow night – they have not done the research. They have not played our game; they know little of Apocalypse 2012 and “The Dreamwalker”


03/18/2013: planning the solstice party.
The light survivors celebrate.
The message goes out.

            “Good. The snow has covered the ground, and the windmill is spinning like it wants to fly off. I am warm, the fire is glowing, and I am safe, the fence is closed: no problems here. How are things in the city?” Grace asked Joe.
            “Not many people out and about. Most have collapsed. There was no one to guide them. Not enough disciples. They have all survived, they are communicating on the radios that they bought. They all have vertical gardens growing with grow lights powered by windmills, just like you. They have enough rice, canned fish and beans. That was a great list that you gave me.”
            “And you gave me a root cellar and a great big garden, so I have carrots, potatoes, apples, pickles and canned pears. Can you make it for the Equinox?”
            “I don’t know mom, the gas is gone and the stations are out. There isn't enough sun to power the electric car to go as far as your place. I will see if I can borrow some extra batteries to put in the trailer, and that would mean some extra people. OK?”
            “You know that’s OK  My table seats as many people as arrive, even if we have to perform a miracle like the fishes and the loaves, we will feed as many as show up. It is the beginning of spring. The greens will be on the table before you know it and the parsnips will be out of the ground, I will have fresh food, so it is time to empty the root cellar.”
            “Well, we don’t have to do that, maybe feed a few more than our core 3.”
            “That would be a very welcome event. Are that many Lights in town?”
            “There are some; and all the other hidden Lights, back here in the woods. Maybe I could send out a message for a reunion and ceremony to celebrate Spring.”
            “Great idea mom, that would be great, maybe someone has a lamb.”
            “We don’t kill lambs anymore; they’re too valuable alive, until they are really old, then we get mutton. Do you like mutton?”
            “I don’t know, maybe someone will bring some to the dinner or feast; is what it is becoming?” asked Joe.
            The forgiving Lights, yahoo, we have made it through the darkest winter in 26,000 years.
            We certainly had our trials.
            OK, you send out your messages, and I will put it into the game. Anyone who can find the place is invited to a pot luck dinner on the equinox.
            “I will have to put directions on the radio; is that ok with you?”
            “You’re sure that only the Lights will receive that.”
            “Yeah, only Lights are tuning in. There a bunch of Lights that followed the game enough to be awake now. I thank God, I made a difference.”
            ”And thank Jake too.”
            “Sure mom.”
            “Well, wasn’t he the one who was instrumental in monetizing the game? Without the supplies that we could buy back then, we wouldn’t be so well set up now, would we? Say a prayer for Jake.”
            “Amen. I still miss him. He really didn’t believe any of it, did he?”
            “I guess not. And maybe he chose to go out in a burst of energy, with the millions of souls that passed that night. Earthquakes, tidal waves and hurricanes sent the seas swamping the shores for oh my goodness. I don’t want to think about it, all those people drowned.”
            “But mom, you said it, a surge of energy. Imagine how it was in heaven, with all those spirits arriving at the same time. It must have been like the biggest reunion in time and space. What a party, and no booze required.”
            “But, what about those who were hurt? I think that the seas took care of that. Freezing water, they wouldn’t have hurt for long, just a few moments and then bliss, being in the line up to the pearly gate.” “Hey fella, how did you get here?” “I don’t’ remember.” “Neither do I. Ha ha, what a joke, eh? Getting to the pearly gate and not remembering. Or do you forget after you get to heaven?”
            “Silly boy, go and make your messages, and I will get on the radio.”
            “Later Mom.”


            “My, oh my, I sure do miss Jake; he was such an affectionate boy. Joe is great. I miss the hugs when … sigh… Message to the Lights... OK.”        
            Grace walked to the pigeon coop. The Lights have been raising pigeons for squab for about 2 years. They have kept the quickest for messages, and trained them to fly between their homes. This system would be good as long as there were trails to bring the birds back and grubs to feed them. Nature takes pretty good care of the grubs, and men take good care of the trails.
            There was an intricate network of trails that look like deer tracks interconnecting the Light’s homes. They would ride the trails on their horses or mules on a regular basis. They said that they were riding trails to the others; they were truly avenues of communication and commerce between the Lights. They could secretly travel from one homestead to the other without being observed, except when they had to cross the highways. Then they would put a deer crossing sign, to disguise their trail. These trails were used to trade goods and pigeons. One trail came to Grace’s home, one trail that tied her to the rest of those who anticipated the shift, and chose to hide in the woods, stockpiling enough goods to ensure the survival of their families. Families that joined together in the mine to chant and sing and hide underground when the portal to the center of the universe opened, and the bolt of energy blasted the minds of those on the surface, light and dark.
            She attached a message to the pigeon’s foot: “Equinox pot luck at Grace’s.”
            She let the bird fly. She had 3 days to prepare. She went to the stream and looked for fish.

"The End"; in fact this was the beginning...

The End of the World as We Know It 
“Ooooooohhhhh! I hurt! What the bleep happened last night? Did I black out? Where am I?” Roz pried her eyes open. She looked around. She was lying on the floor beside a stranger; man or woman, she couldn’t tell. There were ashtrays, pipes, empty glasses and bottles strewn around. She felt the thought numbing headache searing her head. She didn’t recognize anything or anyone; trying to focus her thoughts, there was only fog. She rolled over and crawled to the bathroom. “Hello Ralph, I say good morning to the porcelain god.”
Slowly she stood, and found the door. Leaning against the door, she tried to gather herself. “Ok, what am I doing? Right, I want to go home and take a shower; wash off the dregs of last night. Now where am I anyway? How did I get here?” This was the first time she had blacked out.
She turned and peered out the door, opening it inch by inch. She saw a porch she didn’t’ recognize; there was stuff she didn’t recognize and there was noise. She was assaulted by the racket; people, yelling at each other. What was going one? They seemed to be wandering around, lost, stumbling into each other. Everyone was lost. Roz had forgotten her name, she had forgotten where she was, and she had forgotten where she was going. She was lost, too.
“I remember singing that song; ‘It’s the end of the world and I know it.’ Oh yeah, well I don’t feel fine!” The interest in the end of the Mayan Calendar was all that anyone was talking about on New Years day, 2012. What would it mean? Would it really mean the end of life as we know? Any way, what is life as we know it, struggle, play, love, or war? There were three groups of people on the night of December 21, 2012. Those with hope, those with fear, and who didn’t know, didn’t care. Rosie was hopeful, Roz was didn’t care. There were two ways to celebrate the winter solstice that year; with hope for the future, releasing the past, or by holding on to the past and fearing of the future.
Roz walked. She walked for hours, up and down the streets. Everyone she passed looked like they were in shock; everyone looked like they were lost.
She finally found something familiar, a house. She went in. She walked from room to room touching the ceramic horses on the top of the piano, reading the bills on the kitchen counter; there was no one there. She didn’t remember that this was the home that she shared with Rosie; she didn’t remember Rosie. She did remember why she was there. She went upstairs to the bathroom and looked into the mirror. What she saw was not the image she expected. The girl in the mirror looked like a zombie, dark sunken eyes, shriveled lips, matted hair. She went to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet; rifling through it, she found some aspirin and took some. Then she turned on the shower. When she saw the water beating down, she stepped in and stood with the tepid water pounding on her back, streaming over her shoulders, soaking her tired body. The water washed away some of the pain, some of the ache, some of the regret. Then she went to bed. “Maybe if I get a good sleep, I will remember”


They were as different as night and day, as black and white, as joy and gloom, yet Rosie and Roz were sisters; twin sisters. Born on May 28, 1994, in numerology they are #11; they are #2; in astrology they are Gemini, the twins.
While Rosie learned to dance, Roz played tennis; while Rosie studied astrology, Roz studied astronomy; Rosie learned literature, Roz economics. They were similar in many ways as well. Being twins, they lived for each other. Everyone agreed that they were brilliant; they developed their own language before the age of two. They kept their own secrets.
Living in Key West allowed many outlets that growing girls never have when living amidst the concrete and traffic of the larger cities. There was a lot of interest in the upcoming world changes, like the impact of global warming on the shore line. Was Key West going to disappear, as a place and a life style?
And of course, there was the ocean, that wonderful playground that could keep them immersed for days on any number of projects. Rosie was a sailor; Roz was a power boater. 
Classes had ended for the term, Roz and Rosie were walking home,   there was much discussion; how are we going to celebrate the end of time, the end of the Mayan calendar?
“Have you been down to the Sugar Apple? There is a sign on the bulletin board about a meditation group sailing out to Boca Grande for the Solstice.” Rosie led the conversation. “I think that I might take my boat out there. It’s such a beautiful place. If the predictions are true, I want to be in a peaceful place for the end. Will you come with me?”
“Oh my goodness!” scoffed Roz, “ What makes you think that the world will end. It’s just the end of some calendar according to some ancient rock.”
“Says you. I have been studying this for years, and there is supposed to be a hole in the galaxy, right through to the center, and earth will get blasted with cosmic rays” Rosie replied.
“As if! Where do you get this stuff? Are you nuts?” said Roz. “We could just go down to Duval and watch the crazies. There’s always a party down there!”
“I don’t think so. I don’t want to go out like that, for me it needs to be a peaceful passing.” said Rosie.
In preparation, to celebrate the winter solstice, Roz decided to party. If this was going to be the end, the end of life as we know it, she was going out with a bang.  Key West always has parties for everything. Each hurricane friends visit friends, choosing the location furthest from the threat of flooding; bringing the beverages of choice that would make the roar of the wind less threatening. The hurricane party would end with roaming the decimated streets with a hangover after the damage was done. Would a party be enough to celebrate the end of the world? Roz decided that an “apocalypse party” would be great. She was going out drunk.
Rosie and her friends planned to sail to Boca Grand and have a solstice party on the beach. If the world was going to end, she was going to be watching, entering the next phase with eyes wide open.


As the moment of Galactic Alignment approached, the party on Duval Street reached a frantic level; Jager shots and laughter covered the apprehension. How would we go out? Would there be an explosion? Would there be a huge tidal wave? Worries were erased in the drunken haze of the mosh pit.
On Boca Grand things were different, sitting around the bonfire, each was sharing their moments of joy and their moments of gratitude. As the galaxy lined up, everyone stood up and joined hands. Slowly they began to sway, then move in a circle. Carried away in the trance of the druidic circle dance they had learned at the coffee mill, they didn’t notice the wave of white energy that engulfed them the moment the alignment came and went.
Rosie returned to her boat, and lay down on deck. Sleeping under the stars, being rocked by the gentle waves, Rosie had the strangest dream. She dreamed that Roz was blind.
At Boca Grand, the sun peeked over the horizon; over the crest of the silent ocean. The sky glowed with orange, pink and yellow hues dancing off the clouds sliding overhead; the air smelled of rain in the distance. There was something else special. There was a magical silence. No one spoke. Each went about their tasks to prepare for the sail back to Key West as a dance, knowing how to move, who would be present to assist. They found that conversation was no longer necessary. Each became aware that they had learned to communicate telepathically overnight; when they searched with their minds, the answers appeared. They became aware that their vibration levels had been raised. The use for voice now would be song; spontaneously, a joyful song went up. Galactic Alignment had made them higher beings.
As Rosie raised the sails on her Cal 29, she felt the breeze moving the hairs on her arms. She knew that it was blowing out of the west; it would be an easy sail back in the warm west wind. The others were raising sail as well; they would reach Key West like an armada of peace and joy.
They passed turtles on the surface of the water. Passing Woman Key a pod of dolphins joined them. As the vessels sailed downwind, the dolphin played in the bow wave, diving and jumping. Gradually, Rosie realized that she could understand what the dolphins were saying. She could understand those chirps and squeaks telepathically. She signaled to the others. They all could understand. The dolphins were welcoming them to the new world, to the new age of humanity. They were also sending visions of darkness and confusion. The sailors didn’t understand that they would find this in Key West.
They pulled into Key West Bight as the sun was starting to set. Looking to the west, they saw a green flash wink at them as the sun dropped below the horizon. “A perfect end to a perfect sail home.” thought Rosie.
The boats were tied up at the abandoned fuel dock. But the bars were crowded. People had forgotten about money, they hadn’t forgotten about beer though. The taps were open, the beer was flowing, they were staggering and passing out in the streets. The sailors instantly understood what had happened. Not all humanity had risen to the higher state, some had lost what civilization they had, they had forgotten how to be human.
Rosie’s thoughts went immediately to her dear sister, Roz. Telepathically she scanned the area, increasing her field of awareness with each moment, visualizing contacting her. She started to walk toward their home, taking care to avoid those meandering in the street. They seemed to be unaware of her presence as the kept bumping into her. She soon realized that she was invisible to them. They all were invisible. Galactic Alignment had created a rift within humanity, those of the light and those of the dark. Those of the dark had forgotten about those of the light, they simply no longer existed to them. Those of the light understood that they must create a new society, they must find another way, and live apart; those of the dark were lost. Would they ever find  each other again?

Afterword: 12/21/2012; A Number 2
#2: ”Timidity, fear, low self-esteem, lack of self-confidence, depressed.  You are vulnerable and easily hurt and you try to escape from all kinds of confrontation and criticism.”
#2: “You sense what other want and how they feel, you are a great team-worker and an organizational talent. You have an eye for beauty and you are often the power behind the throne. ” Numerology interpretation.
2012: “It is said that on December 21st 2012 the world will explode. Or mankind will be transformed into ascended beings—or maybe nothing will happen at all. Interesting theories, however the ideology behind the propaganda is the prime factor—not of what might happen in 2012. The Ideology of the 2012 syndrome is producing several preconceived ideas as futuristic expectations. The real truth is covertly disguised.”