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The Oneironaut’s Diary

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Michael Bassey Johnson

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“So, you know about fairies? Tell me about them. “They are all around us, they are where plants are, and some are also where plants are not. They heal and beautify and sow seeds, they are the energy behind your beloved flowers, they pollinate, cultivate and talk to the stones. They hold great knowledge of magic, plants and earth magic and manifestation. They are happy joyful creatures, if it weren’t for them, we plants would not exist, and without plants you would not be able to exist. You see, it is all a symbiotic relationship, one entity helps the other who helps the other.” – Gum Trees”

“When they returned to Filigree Street, Mori refused even to go upstairs. Instead he hid under a quilt in the parlour with Thaniel's never-read copy of Anna Karenina. The Russians, he said, knew how to write genuinely boring novels, and he would only stop being afraid when he was bored enough. They were all the more boring because he could remember reading the end in the recent future.”

“People worry that AI has surpassed humans, but we doubt AI will claim this award anytime soon. One might think that the TED brand of bullshit is just a cocktail of sound-bite science, management-speak, and techno-optimism. But it's not so easy. You have to stir these elements together just right, and you have to sound like you believe them. For the foreseeable future, computers won't be able to make the grade.”

“Don't look at me! I'm the victim here," Joyce said with a pout. "Um, I don't know if I'd call you the 'victim,' Joyce, you've been scratching at them like a cat." "Only because they have done everything in their power to make it uncomfortable for me!" Joyce said. "What are you talking about?" Jess said. "You know what I'm talking about," Joyce said, leveling her gaze at me. She grabbed a piece of garlic bread, tore it into smaller pieces. "My husband's dead, too! You don't hear me ranting and carrying on about him." "Are you kidding me?" Mike stood up. My dad was shaking his head in disbelief over what she had just said. Jess had a tear rolling down her cheek. She never cried. This was insane. "Joyce, the kids can talk about their mother as much as they want." She did a little fake laugh. "But when is it enough, you know? When---" "And so can I. It's never enough. This is their family home, and Callie was their mother." I looked over at Joyce, whose eyes were as big as dinner plates.”

“In that quietness they were speaking their own language, with their eyes, with the way they stood, with what they put into the air about them, each knowing what the other was saying, and having strength one from the other, for they had been learning through forty years of being together, and their minds were one.”