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Coyote's ChildhoodIn the earliest part of the Beginning Times the Creative Spirit was lonely. The animals he made flourished, spreading further across the land with each generation. The Manitous did their jobs as well as he hoped, watching over cycles of life, death, and seasons with constant vigilance. The mortal beings and immortal spirits offered their affections, but this did not satisfy him. He wanted children more like himself, carrying the spark of awareness and capable of inspiring him with their imaginations.
He spent a longer time making each of these new beings than he did any of their predecessors. They carried the best traits of the older children. He gave them the beautiful diversity of forms found in the animals, and made them able to live with him forever like the Manitous. To make them even more special, he set them apart by blending their appearance with the physical form that felt most natural to him when he left his spirit body to walk across the earth.
The children's bodies were the
Fear of PredationI discovered the monster during a routine session with a patient. Dr. McCann was one of the quiet ones. I do not get many quiet ones.
After taking his medicine he froze rigid in his seat and fixed his gaze at some point over my shoulder. A bead of sweat rolled into his eye. He uttered some unintelligible mumble.
I leaned forward, notebook at the ready. "Say that again, doctor. I did not quite catch that."
Sometimes I regret the necessity of the mask. The rustle of straw and crinkle of burlap can be hard on the hearing in delicate situations such as this.
"Oh shit. Shit! Get a lighter! No stop!"
The patient fell silent and cringed away from the imaginary threat. When the spasm of terror passed he entered a state similar to the learned helplessness I have observed in laboratory animals. He closed his eyes and let his head droop to his chest. Tactile stimulation elicited a flinch, but he made no further efforts to escape his fate.
This was a very exciting find. I tested this versi
Dream Journal Oct 2011 - Jan 2013Snarling at Little Kids (10/19/11)
I was outside my house, not a place I've ever lived but possibly similar to one of the places my aunt, uncle, and cousin have lived at. The houses and streets were bigger than they are at my current place.
My dad had bought me a new car, some kind of big red clunky looking brand. I was out with it in the driveway cleaning it and looking at it when I heard some kids approaching on the sidewalk. They were probably no older than 12. They were talking about how much they liked to mess up cars. They put graffiti on my neighbor's car, but I was too lazy to do anything to make them stop. When they were done they came over to my car and opened the trunk to steal stuff. I heard this and raced over to them, snarling like a rabid wolf. They freaked out and ran across the street out of sight. I felt quite pleased with myself for scaring them and defending my property.
Werewolves are People Too (2/7/12)
It was a time where werewolves had recently bec
I rarely have a chance to photograph wildlife, so I practice with the skittish neighborhood cats. This one climbed into a thorny bush to hide from me. I will call it Z for the white shape on its leg.
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