In Central Park on the second longest day of the year, one of them shimmered into being with a message.
You are my chosen avatar.
"I . . . can't," Rambo Jefferson replied from guilt, and he knew the creature understood him. "I mustn't!" He felt certain that thoughts sent and received are complete. "You are innocence!" And . . . . . .
the image faded. Finally. Irrevocably.
Ram felt a heart-wrenching disappointment.
You are chosen, came again, clear as black letters as tall as a Unicorn the size of a Clydesdale.
The creature hadn't vanished. He'd simply disappeared.
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