"Creation" I sit here in my chair with a pencil and paper, waiting, almost anticipating the feeling of creation. Closing my eyes, I relax. Floating in space. My own space. Wondering. Watching. Waiting. A fine mist settles upon my skin, glistening like millions of tiny diamonds, sapphires, and rubies. A fog encircles me. Surrounds me. A fog in which figures and shapes shift and change. Ever changing, on and on and on. Figures of past, present, and future. Living and Unliving. Dead and Undead. Slowly, ever so slowly, one figure begins to emerge from the fog. As it sits down before me, I notice it has no face, no fetures. Like a shadow, it sits silently before me. Then, as if one being, we raise our arms and grasp hands. Grasp minds. Grasp souls. In a flash, we are one but two at the same time. The fog parts and our being walks down the path made for us. The path ends and we are on a ledge overlooking the universe. But we don't stop. We merely step into space and depart this island. We look behind us and see a figure sitting in the middle of the isle. Sitting... with no face, no features. Wondering. Watching. Waiting. We soar through the universe, passing planets, stars, suns; aye, even galaxies. We explore realm after realm, viewing creatures and inhabitants, landscapes and cities, undreamed of. Greg Hueske