July 23, 2009
Manchester, NH

St. John of the Cross talked about dark nights of the soul. Kammie supposed this would qualify. It was certainly dark enough. After living with sight, blindness was like a prison. She'd learned her way around this prison, but it still held her close.

The Greek Chorus or whatever it was hadn't spoken for a long time. The drums pulled at her, but like any continuous sensation, had become part of the background like a heartbeat. She wanted to follow it, but like anything different she attempted these days, she'd need help. And help was directed to more important things these days. Bea and Rad, personal work, and more. Look at Kim's experience.

Kim.

Kammie sighed. Yes, her own situation was frustrating, perhaps difficult, but it hadn't, yet, totally torn apart the foundations of her beliefs. For Kim to exhibit something as unscientific as the Stigmata must be... mind shattering. Perhaps Kim could find some comfort or insight in talking with her. Listening was one thing she could offer easily. She certainly wanted to help. Kim had been - was - so supportive.

She sighed again. Kammie felt cut off from people. One of the few who seemed to relate to her comfortably was gone for who knew how long. She reached up to touch the dream catcher hanging on the wall.

Rael.

Wherever he was, whatever took him away, she prayed to... whatever... that he would come back safe and whole. She chuckled, remembering him offering to matchmaker for her. She reached out a little, placing a hand on Thomas' back where he slept at her side.

Thomas.

Thomas - who had shown her what Mari's memories really felt like. He'd shown her that, however she came to be, she could love. She could feel. She could give and receive pleasure. Ford hadn't botched that, even if he was insane.

Still, whatever she had been made, whatever others thought of her, she needed, desperately needed, to make her own life. Find her own skills.

So she sat there, hand on Thomas' back. In her other hand was a small clipping of the leather from the dream catcher. Again she relaxed herself. Again she tried to see into the Umbra. The little scrap of leather brought her in touch with the memory and knowledge of the dream-trip to the Umbra from which Rael had rescued her - and with the experience she'd had of being pulled into the Umbra by spirits to dance. These were her two experiences in the Umbra. With this physical tie to those, she took a deep breath and strove to "see."

-See.-

And she saw.