January 3rd, 2000

To enter the New Year (January 3rd) she was walking home eating a slice of pizza in Meeting House Square when who should she run into but Danny Curtain (the Negro albino psychic). She got the distinct impression he was looking for her from the way he circled and then ambled up beside.

            “Did you have a nice Christmas?” –still circling.


            “Neither did I.” -An audible snuffle on his part as he sat down. A moment of silence as she looked over observing and thought, wow, he really was miserable this Christmas. So much so she wasn’t sure anymore whether it was her ballpark, or his, but she got the sense he knew just how miserable hers was.

            “Three friends will come to you on the sixth.”

            “They won’t be the right ones,” she responded pertly. This cracked her open with dry wracking sobs. His form of commiseration was to say, “You give too much. I promise you, no one is going to betray you again. I know you’ve been betrayed. But these are your friends.” He then commented on her silence.

            “Well at least I finished my pizza.” (She had no food at home.) He told her to take the time to eat more pizza; that she didn’t enjoy much. Then he began talking about his council project, and how it was going very slowly. He then commented that she would make a very good city counsellor.

            “I’m a little more ambitious than that,” she replied.

            “We need ambition in the female sex. It’s something we’re not accustomed to. -When your friends arrive, don’t give too much. Don’t let them take you for granted. Carry a velvet riding crop.” This amused her greatly. “You carry a velvet whip.” He was trying to recruit her for his mission house. “I’m going to have a velvet crop put on your desk. And you’ll know when to use it. What colour would you like, purple or blue?”

            “That’s a hard choice! I think I’ll go with the blue.”

            “Well, maybe with an amethyst stuck on the bottom of it.”

            She told him she was thinking of going to Glasgow. (She was wondering whether she was trying to contact the wrong people, and should be answering the redemptive pattern, which might best be met in the Reid brothers. The Reid brother’s response in written pages was eighteen pages long.)

            “Oh, she has purpose! -Stay in Dublin. Dublin needs you.” With that she began to feel the psychic was missing a huge section of the picture, not realizing who needed her to stay in Dublin, having no sense of her purpose, or who had betrayed her. Besides he was just another male mystic trying to subvert her to his ends. “You could do a lot of good for people here.”

            With that he took a good long look into her eyes, removing his shades.

            “You can see it, you know. There’s a light that comes out of your eyes, a great light. You are very close to learning how to meditate.” Just nod. That was the best policy. She was scared he might make her hope.

            “You would make a kick-ass angel. Remember the saying from Ghana. Only seven words.”

            “What’s that?”

            “A great silence makes a mighty noise.” He knew she’d been writing a lot.

            “And don’t let anyone bother you about your recent imbibing, and don’t you worry either. You needed that as an oasis.”

            “There’s no one to bother me.”