Monica B.´s Logbook from oPide 112 118 209 (kurti) - kind of an autobiographical-poetic diary. In the fiction the author Monica B. (B = Borboleta = butterfly) is in an unknown place in space, in a mega-city; but of the millions, no one else is alive except her. Typical for the narrator (as for me) is to feel as different people in different places at different times
Behind my Little Dogs almost blind eyes, closed now most of the day, I see his memories which are ours. I purr with him out of contentment. Goals and opinions not always matching, we always knew (and still do) what each other was in.
He was never that much affected by the souls, as he heard them but did not listen to their stupid speeches. When he saw one of them he took a jump, his back fur upright. It is certain, that his soul will immediately go where proper souls go! Nothing will stay like the remnants of all the people in this City.
Of course I am crying now.
My Little Dog helped my Realistic Sense a lot. Alone, I will give me away to my Possibility Sense; as this process has already started, I know what is coming my way.