Sylva, North Carolina Skyship: Part 2

The clock in my silver Highlander read 9:40 p.m.  The road was empty of traffic from the south on an otherwise busy highway for a July summer evening.  Even my new Magnavox cell phone, purchased for its excellent reception in the southern Appalachians was working.  Nothing on the dashboard dimmed.

There just below the twin peaks it hovered. There is something uncanny about being in the zone.  Everything is possible.  An easy focus.  Maybe it was the evil presence of the jet in the distance sounding like it was just over the mountain, but I felt it not wise to use my cellphone.  It was meant to be a singular experience.  In the now.

Even driving under the UFO the sky was totally black.  As I drove out from behind it, I couldn't see anything as I turned my head again.  A void. But as I left this highway, it felt okay to make a phone call.  I telephoned a photojournalist friend.  He would more than understand.  I recounted my experience as I was glad to be home.  Safe inside.  At least on an earth plane level.  I continued to talk to my friend for a while.

Even being home was an illusion.  Any being with this level of technology accesses what they want.  They probably read, know...my thoughts.  I wasn't kidding myself.  I had been exposed.  And more than tired.  Bed was welcomed.

I wondered why it was so dark when I awakened.  The LLBean Moonbeam clock revealed two seconds to one o'clock in the morning.  But I was totally refreshed.  How could this be?  Something was different.  I was different.  My awakening body felt different.  There were no marks.  Just different.  Something happened to me in my sleep. It was like a piece of an epiphany before you get it.  Of course, at the time, I didn't know this.  I felt it.

As the daughter of a physicist, I wished she were near.  And lucid.  Her science didn't prepare her to handle this.  She would have believed.  I sure did.  I knew I was chosen.

Nine more early mornings.  Exactly two seconds before one o'clock in the morning I awakened.  Fully refreshed, alert.  The moonbeam clock with its batteries hadn't lost time. After ten consecutive nights, the puzzle pieces became clear.  I was told to spread the word that we need to be sustainable immediately.  Time had run out.  Failure to do so would bring catastrophe.

What do you do with all of this knowledge?  In a world where darkness rules.  Where people are content to keep their heads in the sand.  Where does this experience go?

Over the summer, I spoke to a few groups, and the local media picked up the story. People wanted to know, understand.  But only the evolved ones.  The ones who were prepared to see things as they are.  It felt good to be among other intuitives.  I longed to know another experiencer.

Post-Enron, Wall Street bailouts, environmental disasters, collapsed economies, HAARP induced megastorms sparing few, I felt Mother Nature's pain.  Clearly, they were here to warn us.

To be continued...