shapeshifters, or in your case, elves.”
“ I w-wonder how far back the connection is,” I say ponderously.
“ It could be way back in your family tree or more recent, you never know,” Frank adds.
I nod and ask him about the other thing that's been bothering me in all this. “What about Green George though, if he really is Silvanus, the Roman God of the forest, then how can there also be all of the Christian stuff like angels and archangels and Nephilim? I thought only one religion could be true.”
Frank takes a moment to think about it, when he does he tells me, “That's a good question. And I'd be lying if I told you I knew the answer. What I do know is that every creature and every myth from every religion exists in some shape or form, they're just not exactly what you find in the history books. Religious and historical texts are all written down by humans, humans who have no doubt been told half truths or who've put in their own two cents along the way. So in the end what you have is a distorted, watered down version of what's real, as well as a biased account depending on who wrote what. And whoever told you that only one religion could be true? Actually, who told you that religion is true at all? Religions are just human constructs to keep us in our places, keep us afraid. People have to believe that they're going to go to some version of hell if they don't do good deeds, because if they didn't society would fall apart. The world can't be compartmentalised into Christian and Muslim, Buddhist and Jew. Everything just is. We all exist and we're all in this together.”
“ You're quite the cynical philosopher tonight Frank,” I laugh.
Frank grins before announcing, “We're here. And by the way, I'm not a cynic, I'm a rational human being, which means I think about things before blindly following.”
“ I think that's what I like about you,” I tell him, and he gives me a wonderful smile, all bright eyes and white teeth.
He's parked down the road from the bookshop, since there are several cars already taking up the spaces on the street directly outside of it. When we get inside the shop I notice that it isn't exactly full to the brim, but there are a good few people hanging around. Mostly women and one or two men.
Hayley spots us as we come in and hurries over to say hello. Then she brings us over to introduce us to the medium whose name is Bill and the tarot card reader whose name is Lucinda. Bill is thin and looks to be in his early forties with balding jet black hair and a perfectly sculpted goatee. Lucinda is in her thirties, probably about the same age as Hayley. She's got long red hair and is a little on the curvy side, body wise. She's wearing a floaty calf length black dress and has a silver chain around her neck with a massive turquoise stone as the centrepiece.
“ Welcome, welcome. So this is the little Empath we've all been hearing about,” says Bill in a loud and slightly obnoxious voice. “Come along then, tell me what I'm feeling,” he continues, a note of challenge in his tone. I'm taken aback by his aggression, but I look at his aura anyway. He thinks I'm faking it, that's the very first thing I pick out. He's irritated that some lying teenage girl has the gall to think she can turn up to his psychic night and try to steal his limelight. All of this I interpret from the big brown and grey splash of defensiveness and jealousy that lingers right over his shoulders, like a shadowy cape.
I take a step closer to him and smile blandly, before telling him in a very quiet voice, “I don't think you want me to reveal to e-e-everyone what you're feeling right in this moment, Bill.”
His face turns angry, but he quickly disguises it and smiles back at me just as blandly. He laughs and claps me on the shoulder. “Well played, we'll see what you can really do later on.”
Lucinda steps forward with a massive grin, and at least her welcome is genuine. “I'm so glad you could come
“ I w-wonder how far back the connection is,” I say ponderously.
“ It could be way back in your family tree or more recent, you never know,” Frank adds.
I nod and ask him about the other thing that's been bothering me in all this. “What about Green George though, if he really is Silvanus, the Roman God of the forest, then how can there also be all of the Christian stuff like angels and archangels and Nephilim? I thought only one religion could be true.”
Frank takes a moment to think about it, when he does he tells me, “That's a good question. And I'd be lying if I told you I knew the answer. What I do know is that every creature and every myth from every religion exists in some shape or form, they're just not exactly what you find in the history books. Religious and historical texts are all written down by humans, humans who have no doubt been told half truths or who've put in their own two cents along the way. So in the end what you have is a distorted, watered down version of what's real, as well as a biased account depending on who wrote what. And whoever told you that only one religion could be true? Actually, who told you that religion is true at all? Religions are just human constructs to keep us in our places, keep us afraid. People have to believe that they're going to go to some version of hell if they don't do good deeds, because if they didn't society would fall apart. The world can't be compartmentalised into Christian and Muslim, Buddhist and Jew. Everything just is. We all exist and we're all in this together.”
“ You're quite the cynical philosopher tonight Frank,” I laugh.
Frank grins before announcing, “We're here. And by the way, I'm not a cynic, I'm a rational human being, which means I think about things before blindly following.”
“ I think that's what I like about you,” I tell him, and he gives me a wonderful smile, all bright eyes and white teeth.
He's parked down the road from the bookshop, since there are several cars already taking up the spaces on the street directly outside of it. When we get inside the shop I notice that it isn't exactly full to the brim, but there are a good few people hanging around. Mostly women and one or two men.
Hayley spots us as we come in and hurries over to say hello. Then she brings us over to introduce us to the medium whose name is Bill and the tarot card reader whose name is Lucinda. Bill is thin and looks to be in his early forties with balding jet black hair and a perfectly sculpted goatee. Lucinda is in her thirties, probably about the same age as Hayley. She's got long red hair and is a little on the curvy side, body wise. She's wearing a floaty calf length black dress and has a silver chain around her neck with a massive turquoise stone as the centrepiece.
“ Welcome, welcome. So this is the little Empath we've all been hearing about,” says Bill in a loud and slightly obnoxious voice. “Come along then, tell me what I'm feeling,” he continues, a note of challenge in his tone. I'm taken aback by his aggression, but I look at his aura anyway. He thinks I'm faking it, that's the very first thing I pick out. He's irritated that some lying teenage girl has the gall to think she can turn up to his psychic night and try to steal his limelight. All of this I interpret from the big brown and grey splash of defensiveness and jealousy that lingers right over his shoulders, like a shadowy cape.
I take a step closer to him and smile blandly, before telling him in a very quiet voice, “I don't think you want me to reveal to e-e-everyone what you're feeling right in this moment, Bill.”
His face turns angry, but he quickly disguises it and smiles back at me just as blandly. He laughs and claps me on the shoulder. “Well played, we'll see what you can really do later on.”
Lucinda steps forward with a massive grin, and at least her welcome is genuine. “I'm so glad you could come
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