The suite was smaller than the one Jazmynde assigned Mara. The lights were a dim amber, the color of a setting sun. Mara sat cross-legged on the floor, back resting on a couch. She was dressed in a “fat suit” – a weighted, full-bodied, white unitard that helped people acclimate to lighter gravity environments. Two comfortable chairs flanked her.
Did you know that I am an expert at weddings?
Did you know that there is no governing body anywhere that regulates who is a wedding expert and there are no set criteria by which to measure one’s expertise at weddings?
Iaian walked through the doorway into Jazmynde’s office and she nearly lept up and throttled him.
‘A dream,’ she thought. ‘I am here for answers, not wish-fulfillment.‘ That was the problem with lucid dreaming: it could too easily veer away into mayhem. The trick in controlling a dream memory is by not controlling it. Jazmynde remembered her teacher telling her, ‘inhabit the dream, don’t master it.‘
Jazmynde awoke with a start and looked around the room. No alarms were blaring, but something triggered her wake routine. A small jolt of adrenaline was pumped into her while she was sleeping; she could still feel the subcutaneous chemical burn.
Her eyes blearily adjusted to the dim amber lights, bathing the circular white room in a soft glow. She carefully removed the IV and sat up. she wiggled her toes, then feet, then legs, getting her blood moving again. There was no telling how long she was out.
I was asked to review a couple of services that either I use or some friends use!
They should never have done this.