“Babaji smiled broadly and put his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.” This world is a constant giving of gifts and singing of songs” he said. Gabriel blinked even more confused. The sadhu sighed and said, “Find a song, sing it, and know that where the words are not, you will find the truth”. Babaji held his gaze with a blank face. Then he took a mala, a string of prayer beads, off his wrist. The string bore one hundred and eight beads of rock crystal.
Continue reading“Samira, she said again, this time audibly but with a low voice, as she smiled faintly at herself in the mirror. Katarina had picked the name from a shop that sold crystal vases. Samira. It had been a spontaneous whim which in an instant had become her new truth. A truth whose shielding falsehood Sherif might now be able to threaten. She detached her eyes from her face in the mirror and looked down into her coffee cup, the untouched milk foam reached slightly above the rim. The reflection of her camera next to the cup was a proof that she was now a photographer.” Chapter 4, Caught
