It happened one winter

A love story of Creation

And so it begins…

It was interesting how we met, when one stops to consider that widespread usage of the Internet for business was not yet in vogue. But meet there we did, and right directly we put together a plan for seeking and locating antiques for clientele on both sides of the Atlantic. In a short time, we had put together a marvelous discovery process where, once an object was located on one side of the Atlantic, the other would quickly notify an interested buyer on the other side of the ocean. The entire process was a bit clandestine, though, being that the antiques business can sometimes become ruthless, we had to resort to code names to conceal our identities. The two of us were known internationally as antique dealers of the highest level.

Being intelligent, refined and beautiful, her code name was "Rosewoman". I, being quite open and transparent about my passions towards Rosewoman, was named, "Glassman".

We had just finished a most profitable venture concerning an original tea set made by the Russian artist, Kasimir Malevich. A true collector's item because the cups and teapot were Supremacist in design and only one of two identical sets in existence. The other set resides in the Tretykov Gallery in Moscow. I had found the tea set in a Brooklyn pawnbroker's window and nearly dismissed it as nothing more than misshapen pottery covered with thick black paint. Of course, the overall design of the set intrigued me and I took a closer look.

I asked the shop owner to let me hold one of the pieces, he gladly obliged. Probably thought that here's where he gets to say goodbye to worthless junk. Luckily, the phone on the counter rang and the owner went to answer. I quickly took out a small jack knife I carry and scraped off a small portion of the thick paint on the side of the cup I was holding. Sure enough, the underneath glazing was indicative of the real thing. When the owner returned, I asked the price. He told me, "fifteen dollars", and I told him, "deal."

Back to my car as quickly as I could manage. Once inside, I opened my laptop and connected with you.

"I just obtained a genuine Malevich tea set. Contact St. Petersburg. I'm flying to you now."

You met me at Heathrow and the two of us flew to St. Petersburg to meet K. Russokov, a man known only to the most influential collectors on the Continent. Our rendezvous was under the cover of darkness, early in the morning at Russokov's apartments. Once there, we turned over the tea set and our client promptly took the seven individual pieces and dipped them each into a solution that quickly dissolved the ugly black paint. Right before our eyes was revealed the variegated coloured cups and teapot. A very charming set, if I do say so myself. Russokov seemed very pleased and went to a hidden wall safe, withdrew 250,000 pounds in British notes and gave the money to us.

Just as quickly as we had come, completed our business, we were on our way again out of the country. We knew customs would be very curious about the large sum of money in our travel bag. Russokov had foreseen such a problem and had arranged a power launch for us to make our way across the Baltic to Helsinki. By five in the morning, we were in our hotel room in Finland. That was our first big venture. There have been many since and, to put it mildly, Glassman and Rosewoman were quite wealthy.

Only this last year, I had been wrapping up a bit of business in Charleston, South Carolina and you were at our home in England, tending to things there. I was about to catch a flight to Washington, DC to link with a flight to Heathrow. I had an hour or so to dally about, so I window-shopped in Charleston's prime antique district. After fifteen minutes of casual gazing, I happened upon a very interesting item. Quickly, I entered the shop and asked to see the amber piece in the window. It was retrieved and handed over to me. The item appeared to be a pendant, about four centimeters in diameter. It was made of silver - a complete ring of silver, in fact - and the center of the ring was a single piece of amber. The amber had an old Viking symbol carved into it, and on the reverse side, an inscription in a language I was unfamiliar with. The shopkeeper realized that he possessed something of value - he didn't know how much of a value, but nonetheless, something of value. Without any hesitation, and before he could speak, I offered the dealer one hundred dollars. Without any hesitation on his part, he took it.

By this time the next day, I had arrived home to you. That's something that's always worth the price of separation - the reward of coming home to you, my Rosewoman. It did not take you long to discover the pendant. You held it to the light and were captured by the beauty of the amber and the musty smell of the old silver. We both knew we had an object in our possession that was somehow different… very different.

The Christmas season was at hand and you had found an interesting getaway for us. You had learned of a solstice festival that was being held in Northumberland. We needed a vacation holiday and just to be together, we decided to motor cross-country, enjoying a very nice stay at an inn mid way to the east coast. The weather was turning quite cold and the skies overcast with dark clouds. Snow was due to fall later that evening, according to the weather forecast. It mattered not how cold it was on the outside, for inside our vintage Jaguar, we were comfortably warm and very happy. By Christmas Eve, we would be in our hotel room, looking forward to the holiday festivities.

The Blue Ogre… the white flames.

As would naturally be the case in the recounting of a story like this, our inn was located in the deepest part of the Northumberland forest. Turning off the main thoroughfare, we were directed to the inn by charming, hand carved signs proclaiming in the simplest of terms: "Blue Ogre" accompanied by a yellow arrow pointing the way. The narrow road leading into the tall, thick, black forest was just wide enough to allow the Jaguar to pass.

It is not often in our business where we can find the time to break away and center our thoughts and feelings on the other. The world of antiquing is a continual coming and going of collectors seeking lost treasures and 'locators' or 'acquisitionists' always turning up those lost treasures. In the business of Glassman and Rosewoman, money has the power to roll back the ages and reveal the 'lost and forgotten' to the light of day. But, for this holiday, the computers and cell phones were turned off and as far as the rest of the world was concerned, Glassman and Rosewoman had dropped off the edge of the world.

We couldn't help be amazed at the density of the standing conifer forest. Visibility into the trees was limited to the first three or four, after which seemed to be a curtain of pure black. At first, the visual impenetrability was a bit of a curiosity, but after what seemed to be endless miles of driving, the novelty wore off. What had become more of a curiosity was that we had not encountered any vehicles coming from the opposite direction. For all intents, we were quite alone in the world.

Daylight was falling away as the evening hours approached. Finally, ahead, there appeared a clearing in the forest where we could see the conifers giving way to groves of oak trees. Further ahead, nestled in a clump of tall, gnarled and ancient oaks, stood the Blue Ogre.

A truly amazing piece of architecture, the Blue Ogre. One of those period buildings from the 15th Century where the foundation is dimensionally smaller than the stories above. The Blue Ogre inn was clapped in three hands wide boards cut in three metres length. By now, the wood was almost black after years of staining and weather. Measured spaces between the boards were spackled with white plaster. Flower boxes were placed under each window and for the season were filled with sprigs of pine bough. In the middle of each array of needles was a globed wicked lamp. By this time of day, the lamps had been lit.

Following the signs posted by a driveway leading from the road, we parked the car at the rear of the inn. As we drove round the building, we couldn't help but noticing that there were many people gathered in the well-lit dining room. Conversing and laughing, arms flying about in articulated exchanges, glasses of ale being hoisted… plenty of laughter and good times.

We parked the car in the designated area, which by all measure seemed to be terribly small accommodations for such a large inn. I looked at you, "Dear one, isn't it a bit strange that with all those people in the dining area, there isn't one car parked back here other than ours? Surely, they couldn't have all walked!"

"Don't worry about such things. We're here to get away and enjoy ourselves," you replied. " You get the bags."

We had to enter the Blue Ogre through the main entrance, and that brought us directly to the front desk. As soon as we entered, the dining room commotion we previously saw through the windows, now took on the added dimension of loud, raucous sounds. Good natured enough, but loud nonetheless. Quickly overpowering the ambient sounds, though, was the delicious mixture of aromas permeating the insides of the inn. A wonderful mix of deliciousness of food, pipe tobacco and burning fireplaces. Already, we were beginning to feel very comfortable… and hungry.

The desk clerk (who also happened to be the innkeeper) was a striking figure. A man in his sixties, with beautiful, long flowing white hair, he stood at least two - two and a quarter metres tall and was powerfully built. Actually, such a personage standing behind a front desk seemed quite out of character. Captain of a Viking ship would be more like it, but behind a desk….? Strange.

What the man lacked in credulity in appearances, he more than made up for in graciousness and obsequiousness. His voice made us feel most welcome and without delay, he snatched up our luggage and led the way upstairs to our room. It was quite interesting that he should be able to open the room door without touching the knob, but there it was… the door opened by itself and he entered. It happened so fast that we barely paid notice. In fact, we were a bit fatigued from the long drive and very hungry. The smell of food had done its magic. After freshening up, we joined the others in the dining room.

You seemed to be in the spirit of things and decided to wear about your neck the amber pendant. With your outfit, it served as the perfect accent. We entered the dining room amidst the continuing animated conversation and were promptly greeted by our host. As he approached, his complexion changed to a look of stunned surprise and his verbal greeting was halted mid sentence. The large man gazed upon the pendant - only for a moment - and then he regained his composure and continued on with the greeting. We were introduced to all who were present - 25 to 30 very cheery patrons, men and women - all of whom were also intrigued with the pendant. Try as hard as they may to cover up their initial expressions of surprise, we could clearly see there was a great fascination in the pendant. And, then as suddenly as it came one, everyone's interest quickly shifted to matters dealing with the holiday solstice and the fact that it also happened to be Christmas Eve. In the corner of the large dining area stood a lush, floor-to-ceiling balsam. It was so picturesque in the room. Massive beamed ceiling, wide, slabbed pine floorboards, a huge field stone fireplace - all made the more merrier by the presence of a very large groaning board that was packed with every kind of holiday food imaginable. What a wonderfully cheery place, this. One of the gracious ladies in attendance guided us to the left end of the groaning board, indicated that we should take a large plate and pile it full of all the delicious foods. We did just that, and then were shown to a small table at the side of the room by the Christmas tree. Everything was picture perfect.

Some of the folk came by and chatted with us, asking where we were from and what might our profession be… small talk… you know the kind. As we ate, the others spontaneously broke into a round of caroling. We recognized the melodies but could not make out the words. The singers were using a language that neither of us had heard before. It sounded so ancient in its simplicity. The evening wore on with more carols and more eating. At the eleventh hour, we had had our fill and offered our excuses to one and all that we must retire for the evening. There were polite nods and hale and hardy, "Good nights!"

Our room was blessed with its own fireplace and the innkeeper already had a fire going. More for effect, really, because the room was cold and we fast took refuge in the large, soft bed… covering ourselves with two thick quilts. With your back to my front, you snuggled into my curving body the same as would two spoons fit together. You felt so good to me, and I to you. However, the long drive and wonderful food took their toll and before five minutes passed, we were sound asleep. But not before I softly said, "Rosewoman, I do love you so." You just smiled and lightly cupped your hand over my genitals.

There was no way of telling how long it was before we were awoken from a deep sleep. There were distant sounds coming from outside our room window. Both of us sprang out of bed to go have a look. There was a field clearing of about one hundred metres that separated the inn from the deep forest. On the far edge of the clearing we could see glowing flickers of flames. There must have been close to thirty lights, all in a straight line at the base of the standing pines. Not to miss any of what was out there, I quickly snatched a quilt from the bed and wrapped the two of us in it. We could now make out the distant sounds of chanting. Before long, the flickering lights began to randomly move away from the woods' edge. The flames seem to float above the ground and as they drew nearer the inn, the chanting became louder. Not an angry chanting, but a continual audible mantra. I have to say, this certainly had our attention. For reassurance, we held each other as close as we could and just watched what was unfolding before our eyes.

As the flames advanced, the two of us noticed two things. We were finally able to make out the forms of people carrying the white flames. Dressed in deep burgundy and earthen green robes, each person was transporting a single flame suspended in air between the bearer's spread apart, outstretched arms and hands. The second thing we became aware of was the distant sound of thunder… or at least we supposed it to be thunder. As the marchers of the flame drew closer, the thunder became louder and took on the distinct sound of repeating drum beats. All in all, the whole scene was quite dramatic.

It did not take long for it to become apparent that in the phalanx of marchers, near the center of the group, there was one person larger than the rest and that form was transporting a larger, brighter flame than the others. About thirty metres away from us, the marchers stopped. Clearly now the flames reflected from the robes and from the faces of the marchers. Men and women could be made out. The faces belonged to the people who dined with us earlier.

Suddenly, the man in the middle - the keeper of the largest flame - rose from the ground and began to glow over the entire surface of his body. He arose to the level of our window and smoothly glided to a position right on the other side of the glass and even with our eyes. It was the innkeeper. His hair was flowing as if a strong wind was blowing it, his eyes glowed like irradiated emeralds. He stretched out his hand and with pleasant voice said one word, "Come."

As if by magic (and surely if there ever was magic, it was now present), we could feel ourselves being levitated from where we stood and without any resistance whatsoever, and still wrapped in our quilt, we were materialized right through the window glass and brought into the darkness of night. Being the quick thinker you are, as we were being raised from the floor, you grabbed hold of the pendant and clutched it close to your bosom. By now, we both had sensed that all of what was taking place had something to do with the pendant.

Suspended in mid air as we were, our eyes did not leave the glowing eyes of the innkeeper. Below, the chanting became more intense in its tempo and the individual flames were burning ever brighter. In an abrupt maneuver, the innkeeper turned from us to face the great forest. He began to float in that direction and we found that we were in his tow. How long we flew, we had no idea. How fast we flew, well, there we did have an idea. The stars in the heavens were no longer points of light, but instead, had become long lines of light. Clearly, we were passing through a time warp of some sort, when suddenly we sensed that we were plunging right into the earth. In a matter of what seemed seconds to us, we found ourselves standing at the opening of an underground tunnel, looking into a massive cavern amphitheatre. With incredulity painted on both our faces, we asked, "What in God's name is this place?"

Netherworld, Chinga and Passion...

Wrapped in a quilt and nude is how we were taken from our room; transported, clutched in each other's arms, we now found that our covering had vanished and we each were clothed in flowing saffron robes. We quickly looked at one another in amazement and then re-directed our attention to what lay before our eyes.

A massive underground cavern, the likes of which neither of us had ever seen, filled with stalactites and stalagmites that glowed a phosphorescent array of rainbow colors. There were ledges that ran the full perimeter of the walls and on just about every ledge there were people going about their business, dressed in red and green robes. In the center area of the huge amphitheatre were two massive cylinders of gold standing at least eight metres high. These cylinders were placed on each side of what appeared to be a gold, metallic sphere of some eight or nine metres in diameter. Around both the cylinders and the sphere, were pots placed every so many metres, in a perfect circle, and they contained metre tall flickering golden flames. This center section of the cavern glowed gold.

Our innkeeper, who changed into the floating white spectre… the one who brought us to this place, had by now taken on a different appearance. As he stood along side us, his white garments turned into a robe of multi shades of gold, silver and bronze. His flowing white hair had now become jet-black and his previously Anglo-Saxon face was now serene looking and had taken on a blue cast. Quickly, the way things were happening and being revealed to the two of us, we were not surprised when our 'host' shifted into another persona. But we, nonetheless, were quite intrigued by the vision the man now presented. Any fears we had were gone, and for reasons beyond explanation, we felt completely safe with the 'blue faced' one.

Our host raised both of his arms, extending his hands out and upward towards the roof of the cavern. Everyone stopped what it was they were doing and looked at the three of us. There were no sounds. Our host's hands began to emit a green, iridescent glow that formed a nimbus about them. From where we were standing, we could make out two large cave openings that exited the far side of the main cavern. The openings had to have been close to 15 metres high and appeared to be devoid of any interior lighting. Before long, we began to hear sounds coming from the caves. Animal sounds. Walking, scuffing and grunting sounds. We noticed that as every step we heard being taken was also accompanied by a tremor passing under our feet. We knew then and there, that what ever it was coming through those caves, it was huge. And it certainly didn't sound human.

The hushed, commanded silence among the people in the cave continued. All we heard was the grunts and scuffing coming from the caves. Finally, we began to receive an answer as to what it was coming our way.

Nearly reaching the top of each cave opening, a figure began to evolve from the darkness. It looked reptilian … it was reptilian… it was the head of a dragon. It had not the features of the horny, scary type of dragon from the fairy tale pictures we saw as children, but instead, the two heads that had just poked out of the blackness looked more like giant lizards. With each grunting noise, and each scuffing sound, more and more of these huge creatures became exposed to the cavern light. Amazing! They had the heads of lizards, but from the neck down, their bodies looked human and they had arms and hands. At their waists, however, the humanness disappeared and contining on down the legs once again, resembled a lizard. From the waist on down, the creatures stood upright and walked about as one would envision small lizards standing, resting against the side of a glass tank in a pet store. Man and dragon, merged into one being in gigantic proportions. The two creatures were fully emerged from the caves and now allowed us to see their massive proportions. Their human part was hugely muscled; arms that looked like giant, twisted ships cable. Their lizard components were also highly muscled and had a complexion of deep green jade. Both creatures had long lizard-like tails that continually flicked about and when reaching full extension, cracked like a bullwhip. Their mouths would open and long, forked tongues would dart in and out tasting the air, sensing vibrations. The eyes were somewhat of a surprise. The eyes were human in shape and look. And an intelligence was in evidence judging by the crispness of vision and ability to focus directly on the two of us. Lest you have any doubts, my dear, we were 'made'.

Our host, wrapping his arms around both our shoulders, spoke softly in our ears. "Those are the Chinga and the reason the two of you caught their attention is because you, my dear, are wearing the pendant. And, because you wear the pendant, you are afforded supreme respect and honor."

I could not resist and had to ask our host what was the significance of the pendant. Why was it so important?

Before he answered us, the man's face had become surrounded by a blue aura and his eyes were once again the same emerald green that we had seen before. Looking directly at us, he said, "The pendant is ancient before all time. It was made by the one the Vikings called Odin. But, before Odin there was Vishnu and it was he who formed the amber, then passed it on to Odin who was instructed to carve the sacred writing and symbol and then bind the scripture in a ring of silver. The wearer of the pendant, and the one who loves the wearer, will then be told things no other human mind has ever known… save the one known as the Buddha.

"More will be revealed to you later. It is now time for you to 'experience'."

As suddenly as the glow had appeared, it left the man's face. His eyes broke from ours and redirected to the Chinga, who by this time had taken their positions - each standing next to one of the towering golden cylinders. Without any warning, the roof of the cavern began to split directly through its middle. Our jaws dropped as we watched the overhead split open as if we were on the inside of a clam looking out. There, above our heads, was the starry night. It was as if we were standing out in the middle of a field somewhere, looking to the heavens and delighting in the stars.

Suddenly, there was an enormous clap of thunder! Then, another. And another. It was the Chinga! They were hitting the tops of the gold cylinders with the flats of their massive, open hands and the resulting sound was thunder. One hit on the top of the 'golden drums' and the volley of sound would exit the cave through the top opening and go rolling across the countryside on the surface of the upper world.

It was truly an amazing site for us to see, as the two giants began putting their all into the drum beating. The tempo began having an effect on everyone within the cavern. Bodies began to move to the downbeat. On the surface, those who lived there reported afterwards that the mountains began shaking and it seemed the earth was trembling.

People who were up on the wall ledges began making their way down to the centre area of the cavern. Staying on the outside of the ring of flaming pots, a line of people formed and they all began to dance to the beat of the drums. Even you and I were not immune to the cadence and we felt compelled to join the dancers. With an approving nod, our host agreed and beckoned us to go ahead. We didn't even have to walk to the centre, because the music of the drums lifted and transported us to our places in the dancing line. The floor of the entire centre area was covered with amber-coloured sand, and to our bare feet, it felt luxuriously warm and good. We could not resist the feeling of the moment. We had to join in and dance.

Around the ring of fire we danced. The movements of our bodies knew no bounds as the drumbeats became faster and faster. I watched you move, as did you me. Never before had we seen our bodies move in such sensuous motions. Your legs were spreading and your hips began inviting me. Your arms were beckoning me to pull you into my arms. By now, I was more than aroused. Passion began flowing throughout the cavern as we went round the circle of fire; our bodies craving one another - excited more and more as I watched you turn into something irresistible and you delighting in watching me turn into something unstoppable. The drumbeats had become wild in their frenzy. I lunged and clutched you to my body as tightly as I could, holding you without hurting you.

Unbeknownst to the two of us, as we were becoming totally wrapped up in each other, our fellow dancers were quietly slipping away from the ring of fire and, soon, we were the only ones there. But, that did not matter. The burning craving and desire we felt for each other the moment made us oblivious as to what was going on around us. Moving to the inside of the ring, and in close proximity to the giant sphere, I laid you down on to the sand, and peeled away your robe. Your hips were raising and lowering, your legs spread… all inviting me to enter you. Throwing my robe aside, and by now extremely excited, I laid along side you and began stroking and feeling your body. My mouth went directly for your raised, excited nipples, my right hand lunged for your vagina, which by now was dripping with passion's emissions. Your one hand gripped my buttock, while the other took hold of my penis, which by this time - and like your vagina - was dripping pre-ejaculatory emission. While kissing your lips, my fingers were eagerly massaging your sensual spot. While darting your tongue into my mouth, your hand was stroking and pulling on my penis, which by now was covered with the silky smooth liquid and glistened in the firelight.

We had become irresistible to one another. It did not matter where we were. We could care less. All that mattered between the two of us was that we were about to have intercourse on a level we have never previously experienced.

I quickly broke away from your lips and turned my body so that I could taste the precious essence of your vagina. You, with similar desire, wanted to taste me. Spreading your legs further apart, I covered your clitoris with my mouth and with my tongue probed and massaged your sensual centre. You, took my penis into your mouth and began working your tongue over its head, sucking as you did this. To me, you were never more delicious. And I seemed to please you greatly also. The drums kept beating wildly.

My hands could not stop their unquenchable desire of wanting to feel every curve and softness of your body. Your hands were probing the cleavage of my buttocks, massaging my testicles and drawing my hips as close to you as possible to where my penis was touching against your soft pallet.

The moment was now upon us. You were stimulated to the point of orgasm. I to the point of premature ejaculation. No time to waste. We disengaged, I turned my face to yours and heeding the call of your spread legs and spreading clitoris, I mounted you.

Never before had my penis seemed so large, never before had your vagina been so willing and open. Entering you was silk into silk. Immediately, the muscles of your vagina closed down on to my penis. It was a very strong grip, almost as if your hand were there. My hips had to fight in order to retract from your grip. Pull I did and push I did. Resistance on withdrawal, mild resistance on entry. The feeling was unbelievable. Your soft breasts were moist against my chest; the nipples extended and hard. With your hands, your reached down, took hold of my hips and with every entry on my part, you pulled me deeper and deeper into you. We could not help ourselves. Our verbal groans of passion could only be heard by us, as the drumbeats were shaking the cavern.

We could not hold out any longer, my Rosewoman. Our bodies just wanted to devour the other in a feast of passion. With every thrust from me, your hips were lifting high from the bed of warm sand and I felt as though I was mounted on a wild, exciting animal. Our bodies formed into a unified motion of muscular ecstasy… throbbing and writhing and clutching and tasting and groping and stroking and rubbing… the time had come.

With one loud gasp from you… and an animal groan from me… I ejaculated. Our hips were locked in a frenzy of complementary motion as I pumped every drop of semen I could produce into your vagina. For what seemed almost like an eternity, I continued to thrust into you, and your vagina continued to squeeze semen from me.

We had achieved the most marvelous climax imaginable. Exhausted, I propped myself on my elbow and with my other hand, stroked the wet hair from your face. "I love you, my Rosewoman." "I love you, my Glassman." Those words said it all.

There was one thing we failed to notice while our passion was breaking loose. The sphere under which we were making love, was no longer a giant, lifeless orb. By now, light was coming from its centre… a piercing bright light that completely overwhelmed everything. We could feel our bodies lifting from the sand and then being passed through the outer surface of the sphere until we were inside. What we found ourselves in was total darkness, and no longer were there sounds of drums. There were no sounds. There was no light. There was nothing… but we two.

Meeting our 'host'… meeting the Creation.

One really cannot describe 'nothing' or 'nothingness', because in the attempt to do so, one does eventually have to say the word itself, and in so doing, references 'something'. Therefore, there is no such thing as 'nothing' and 'nothing's' existence is critically necessary in order that 'something' may, in fact, materialize.

Yet, dearest Rosewoman, you and your Glassman presently found themselves in what could be considered the closest thing to 'nothing' that would be allowable under the rule stated above. I knew you were there, and you knew I was here. But, that's all we knew.

Looking about, we could see nothing. There was no longer any cavern… no fires… no people… no host… no Chinga… nothing. There was no source of light in any direction of our senses. We had no idea as to whether we were upside down or downside up. We were standing on nothing, and yet sensed no indications of movement. There were no sounds… we felt nothing… smelled nothing… nothing but nothing. And yet, we were aware of the other. Glassman knew his Rosewoman was with him; Rosewoman knew her Glassman was with her. And in the sum and total of things, that's all they knew.

Rosewoman knew one additional thing. She knew that she was wearing the pendant, as the feeling of its amber and silver resting at the center of her breasts' cleavage provided the only empirical proof that she was still in third dimensional reality. And, by feeling the object, Rosewoman knew that she and Glassman were still within a realm of some kind of mortality.

Suddenly, as if to reinforce her sense of 'knowing', Rosewoman felt the pendant being removed from her body. The fine meshed chain was being carefully slipped up over her head. Instinctively, she reached to feel for whatever it was doing the removing, but failed to touch anything. The pendant chain was moving on its own volition.

"If you don't mind, you will not be needing that any longer." There was somebody with them! Shocked to hear a voice, and Rosewoman startled when she realized that someone was removing the pendant.

"Who is there?!" Rosewoman asked.

"It is I, your friendly innkeeper and your host while you are here. I really do need the pendant though, because we could stand some light here, wouldn't you say?"

As soon as the pendant was separated from Rosewoman, the amber began to emit a glow. At first it was a pleasant, warm glow that resembled a burning ember. Then, the intensity became stronger and stronger where it reached a sufficient level to where Glassman and Rosewoman could clearly make out the other. Charming site, really, being they were sans clothing. The bodies looked very delicious when bathed in the amber glow. But, it also became readily apparent there was definitely a third person present. It was the 'blue faced one' holding the pendant. Dressed in splendid robes of indigo and purple, the former 'innkeeper' now appeared as if of royal personage.

"Permit me to properly introduce myself to you. I am he who is known as Krishna. As I stand before you now, I do so as the physical manifestation of the personality of the Supreme Being; which for all intents and purposes is me. I stand here by myself, and yet I stand here as the entirety of all. For the present, I am manifested to be the one Self, but nonetheless, the only Self, and in so being, I am here as your instructor.

"Being the 'anticipator of all questions', I shall be very pleased to provide you with all answers. I know that you are confused and wondering where you are and why you are here. Which by the way, does anyone know where 'here' is? Of course they don't, because all such things are quite relative to the one asking the question.

"Perhaps we should bring more light on to things." Sri (Lord) Krishna took the glowing pendant, and by stroking the chain between his hands, caused the object to spin and oscillate. With every turn, the amber glowed brighter and brighter to such an extent is was no longer satisfied with just producing a nimbus about itself, but now, somehow causing distant objects to come to light. It's not that they were being lit, it's that they, themselves, were glowing.

We seemed to be positioned up and to the left of the first cluster of objects. Strange, they, glowing faint yellow, perfect edge less spheres, one after another strung together in the manner of a line of Japanese lanterns. Countless numbers of them, stretching as far to the left as we could see, stretching as far to the right as we could see. A straight line in most cases. In a few instances, some of the glowing orbs formed loops within the line, doubling back in close proximity to its neighbors.

"Those lights," Krishna began to explain, "are what you refer to as universe. Each glowing sphere is a universe. A single universe is so difficult for the human mind to deal with, and yet, here for your enlightenment, you see not one, but an infinite number of the universe. They all begin as a point of energy from the eternal life force of Brahman – another name by which I am known – and expand to a holding point of continuum synergy. Which is to say, my children, the universe grows just so far and then expands no further. But, does not collapse upon itself.

"Now you see those over there?" Our teacher stretched forth his arm and we followed its line of sight. "The larger spheres? Those are fully mature universe that have been and currently are populated by great intelligence. Over the eons, the various species of living beings long ago channeled their collective intelligences into constructive enterprises. They found ways to explore their universe, and in so doing, physically expanded them. I tell you, that by pure intelligence alone, those beings will eventually cross over and depart their spheres and enter this place. And, sadly by intelligence alone, they will have no idea as to where they are. Yet, I say to you, that through enlightenment, you can cross over and come here at will, and you will know this place."

I ask, "Why are some of the spheres doubling back and in such close proximity to the others?"

The 'blue-faced one' turned to me and said, "Because, those universe are inhabited by similar intelligences. They have a natural affinity for one another; some to the point of being a direct reflection of the other. It is only a matter of time segments that separate the two… or three of them.

"Recall, if you will," Krishna continued, "have you not noticed the strangeness of events that have happened in your lives, where you've had the feeling that you've previously been to a place, and yet never before have traveled there? Or, that you are made aware of an event taking place, only to come face to face with the same event perhaps hours or years later? There is a reason for that happening.

"As universal spheres draw close together, they begin to share with and influence the other. After a while, the two come to mirror the each other and interact at different levels of consciousness. Their harmonic energies interweave, and as a result, what we see in the one, we see in the other. However, this is not a true mirrored image, because there are time aberrations. On occasions, if a person from one universe has a heightened awareness of what is taking place in his or her life, there will be situations where that person will observe an event that has, or is, taking place in another, co-existing universe. It's a space, time, continuum issue, but let it suffice for me to say that there is not a perfect harmony anywhere in creation. I do not want that to happen and it will not."

"Why not?", we both interrupted.

A smile flashed on Sri Krishna's face.

"I am so glad you asked that," he responded, "for I was wondering whether I was talking past the point of ennui.

"To allow perfect harmony to exist on such a large scale as would exist between two universe, would mean they could no longer expand into different areas of intellectual curiosity. A pacifying stupor would overtake the two and growth of any sort would become nil. Eventually, both universe would arrive at a symmetry of stagnancy, collapse into each other and die. If that were to happen, the chain of spheres we have around us would be broken and the overall weave of the fabric of the entire creation would start to unravel. That which you call time -- we call stasis -- would fluctuate so wildly, it would be as if someone were shaking a carpet to remove the dust. Can't have that, can we?"

"Sir, if Rosewoman and I are to understand this correctly," I asked, "there are many planes of reality? There is that reality we now see before us. There is a reality for each of the universe. There is a reality when two, or more, universe influence one another and then there is the overall reality of this place in which the three of us presently find ourselves? Am I correct in my deductions?"

"You are."

"And, there is the reality that each human being has created in their thoughts and in their personal world?"

"Yes."

"Well, Sir," Rosewoman asks, "isn't this, then, an invite to insanity and chaos? Isn't what exists in the various realities the same as many orchestras performing different pieces of music, simultaneously, in the same music hall? How is order maintained?"

"It is maintained by enlightenment," Krishna responded. "It is maintained when the individual -- no matter where he or she finds themselves in the various universe - understands that those thoughts they think are the thoughts of the entire creation. The enlightened one understands that nothing in the creation stands in and of itself. The enlightened one grasps, fully, the idea that we are all threads of a single woven tapestry; that the furthest thread in the pattern is as close to the centre as is the first thread in the pattern. That tapestry is called the life force of creation. Once an individual realizes their position in the scheme of things, then time, distance or limitations of knowledge no longer exist.

"The enlightened mind becomes a 'host mind', if you would to the intelligence of the creation. Creation manifests into the physical so that it may experience the emotions and sensations of multi-dimensional spatial existence. I am not pleased when concepts and words are issued and there is no response. I do not like shouting into a cave and not hearing an echo. A quaint way of putting it, if I say so myself, but it makes my point."

"How does one become enlightened," I asked?

"One becomes enlightened when one realizes there is no distance between oneself and the creation itself. The enlightenment comes upon the conscious awareness that there is no "I" and "Thou", but instead only "I". We are all of the One and the One is all of us. Ignorance, however, clouds people's minds. Their emotions, their wants and their self importance separates most people from the creation and in a single lifetime, they will never come to the truth of existence. All the obfuscations of the mind manifest in people's consciousness, barring any chance for them to see the light and to grasp the concept of the supreme unity of the creation.

"There have been the fortunate few who have seen the way. Our dear Sidhartha Gautama was the first to fully communicate to others how enlightenment was possible. Many followed in his footsteps… many found their true cosmic nature. But for those who do not yet understand their role in the wholeness of the creation, those people, unfortunately are reborn to live their lives over and over until enlightenment is achieved.

"Those who have seen the way, and who have lived life wisely and in so doing need not fear death, those people have the choice to rejoin the intellect of the creation and to be assimilated into its completeness, or they may choose to be reborn, re-enter life and be of service to those in pain and suffering and to the betterment of your world.

"These are things we can discuss in detail another time. For now, I will take my leave of you two and allow you to pass on to another adventure."

"But, I have one last question," I said in a somewhat pleading voice. There would be no answer coming, for as he had appeared from the darkness, the 'blue faced one' retreated back into darkness. Krishna was gone, the pendant was gone and we, once again, were suspended in supreme oblivion.

'How it's done… the final dream

Darkness gave way to amber. We awoke, if you can call it that, once again outside of the sphere - still lying on the warm sand. By now, there were no crowds of people about and the flames that once burned so brightly, now were but small, dancing tongues of fire. There were no longer any drums beating, for as we sat up, we could not help noticing the two Chinga were curled up and sleeping at the foot of their drums. Their breathing was so forceful and deep sounding, that flashbacks of tropical storms quickly darted through our thoughts. The hurricane we rode out in Cuba during '82 had nothing on these big bruisers.

As we gathered our bearings and reoriented ourselves, we were quick to notice that our bodies were once again covered with robes and that we were not alone. This time it was not our usual 'host' who stood over us, but an old woman dressed as a gypsy. She was short and looked to be somewhere in her '70s. An extremely pleasant and kind face was framed between two large bauble earrings. A babushka covered her hair except for a perfect line of spit curls across her forehead. Her lips were the type one associates with the highest European aristocratic women. Hers were the eyes of one who sees truth and can show great compassion.

"Oh, good! You're finally awake, my dears." The woman gesturing with her right hand, "Come with me now. I want to take you to a special place… a place I think you will like very much. Come, come! We can't dally. We're on a schedule and can't be late!"

Who could resist this person? We picked ourselves up and obediently followed.

"Quite a thunder and lighting storm on the surface last night while you two were… ahem… enjoying yourselves. The Chinga sent up so many thunderclaps, and with their tails snapping everywhere, lightning was flying all over the place. Scared the surface dwellers something terrible!" And then she chuckled as she lead us into one of the cave openings from where the Chinga first appeared.

"Come, come, you two," she said in a kindly, prodding voice. "These tunnels go under the entire middle of the top country. When the Chinga play their drums, thunder rolls deep under mountains here and afar. Yes it does, indeed, it does."

Although sufficiently lit by the glow of burning torches mounted on the tunnel walls, there was yet another source of light coming directly from the walls themselves. Closer examination by Rosewoman noted that what they were looking at were large diamonds and other precious stones. All producing their own various colors of light. Except for the diamonds. They generated pure white light.

Finally, after what seemed like quite a long walk, the old woman stopped in front of a dark door made of heavy wood. Strange to find such a door down here, because it was ornately carved with the most intricate and beautiful pattern. Hardly the sort of thing one would expect to find in a cave. For some reason, the pattern looked familiar and it was only when Rosewoman pointed out the obvious, did we get a feeling that we were about to go on another adventure. The design carved into the huge door was the same design that was on the pendant.

The woman didn't even have to touch the door… it opened by itself. What we saw was truly amazing and did not require any prompting by our guide for us to enter the room. How to describe it…?

Take all of the pleasant experiences of your life… extract from them mementos that capture the images and sounds of those experiences… and then place them into a single room. Add to the mix, photographs of those people who you loved most, respected most and honored. Your favorite clothes… your treasured memories… put them into the room. The room contains your favorite colour scheme… everything is just the way you would have it for the most pleasing sensations. The smells… the sounds… just what you would wish for. On the walls… 'they' looked like mirrors… for of them - each set in a free-flowing, hand carved frame. They 'looked' like mirrors, but when Rosewoman and I stood in front of them, we did not see our own reflection, but images which were reflections of our fondest memories.

The room was illumined by the light of at least one hundred candles. All sizes and shapes of candles - all of the same color wax. A fireplace, the design of which was like something out of a gnome's fairy tale dwelling, was set into the back wall. Huge, hand wrought slabs of stone were stacked in symmetrical order on each side of the opening. Just above the opening, dead center, was one larger slab of stone that jutted straight out, serving as a hanger for a cauldron. With a healthy fire blazing behind and underneath, the large black pot filled with fermented apple cider was kept continually warmed, producing an aroma that was wonderfully over powering.

In the center of the room, facing the fireplace, was the most marvelously hand-carved, four poster bed imaginable. Into each post was carved figurines representing characters from the old Celtic tales and heroes of Viking lore. Gnomes, fairies, birds, forest animals, ivy and various woodland flowers - all were beautifully carved not only into the bed posts, but across the entire surfaces of the head and foot boards. The mattress was plush and filled with down. The pillows the same. However, it was the bed covers that were amazing. Tender, soft leaves were interwoven with the silkiest moss to form a most wonderful pattern.

Against one wall, there was a massive oak table. The dark, thick legs resembled the posts of the bed with their carved decorations. Placed on the table (and this came as a most pleasant surprise) were various selections of foods that you and I enjoyed the most though out our lives. Our favorite breakfasts, lunches, dinners, snacks, desserts, drinks, candies, fruits and even your passion, chocolate mint ice cream. Everything was already on plates, in dishes, cups and glasses - steaming hot, to ice cold, to just right.

Behind us, the old woman was in the process of leaving and closing the door. Her departing words struck us as curious, "Only the chosen few ever come into this room. And, in this room they will find their greatest pleasure and learn their true nature."

The door closed shut… and we were left to our own devices. It did not take long for us to be attracted to the banquet placed before us. We were hungry for everything. A little of this, a smidgen of that, a taste of yours… a taste of mine. The ice cream took you back to childhood memories, the Scottish shortbread took me to Nirvana. A funny thing, though… a most unusual feeling was coming upon us as we ate. Looking at you, you looking at me, we began to notice that our faces were beginning to look younger. Our bodies began to feel stronger. As we ate the food, we were starting to grow younger. It was not a case of how much we ate, but just the fact we ate anything.

Before my eyes, my dearest Rosewoman became as she looked when she was in her 'twenties. Before her eyes, her Glassman did the same. We could feel the strength of youngness coursing through our bodies. Both sensed the vitality of sexual fire we felt in our youth. Seeing that you and I had met in later life, we never had the opportunity to view the other in their prime. Now, we were seeing each other at the peak of our sexual allure and potency. Your body was perfect in every way. The firm, fullness of your sculpted breasts drew my eyes to you, only to be just as quickly drawn to your exquisitely rounded abdomen. Your hips and upper thighs … so inviting to me… stimulated a feeling in my loins the likes of which I had never before experienced. Your face, even more beautiful than before… your eyes, pierced my soul with spears of love. And I, to you, took on the strength of my prime; the definition of stomach and abdominal muscles causing you to look at me with lustful eyes. The wonderful feelings inside us began their dance though our sexual areas; no time was wasted as we made our way to the bed.

So unbelievably soft and luxurious was the bed. The covers felt as soft and smooth as your inner thighs. We were in each other's arms… feeling the other's silkiness … hands fast and forcibly probing the other's secret spaces. By now, my penis had become fully erect while rubbing against your upper leg. My hand finding itself softly caressing your beautiful face; my tongue lightly tasting your slightly opened mouth. You rolled and put your soft abdomen to mine; only the sensuously pulsing penis separated us. Your hands continually running over my buttocks, around their fullness, your finger gently running the crevasse only to stop for a moment to probe while sensing my body's reaction.

A passion had come over us that was beyond all that we had ever before experienced. A power that was consuming us as we plunged both of our hearts into a churning cauldron of passion. Your hand slipped between our bodies and found my penis, taking hold with great determination and squeezing it with unusual force. There was pain only to be followed by immense pleasure when you released your grip only to go on to stroke the organ its full length. Your thumb and forefinger were fully engaged in playing with the head, gently spreading the lips and coaxing out the slippery emission.

So enraptured in each other's pleasures, we did not notice that the room we were in was beginning to change. A greenish gold aura filled the area as the opaque walls gave way to pure openness. Where once there were burning candles and mirrors, now appeared massive clusters of heavenly stars and gaseous clouds. As magnificent a sight as it was, the two of us barely took notice of the changing scene. It all seemed so natural that we were unafraid and just took even more comfort in the majesty of the happening. Our bed had vanished, yet we still lay together suspended in the cosmic ether.

Our passions had reached an even higher state. We could not deny the other the supreme joy of our bodies and tender words. I could not get enough of tasting and kissing your skin. My mouth worked its way to your heaving breasts and sucked your enlarged nipples. I then moved my mouth down over your stomach, my tongue licking every inch of your skin. The tip of my tongue circling and dipping into your navel and then making its way down to your pubic hair. You then lay flat on your back and spread your legs. I positioned myself between them, my hands rubbing back and forth on your inner thighs. Bending forward, I placed my mouth over your clitoris… and gently (but not too tamely) sucked. Your hips shot up in sensitive recoil. My tongue then darted deeply into your sweetness.

The moan from you, my delicious Rosewoman, left no doubt in my mind that you wanted to taste the same sweetness that I could give. I quickly maneuvered about so that your mouth would have free access to my turgid and, by now, moist penis. Locked into the most passionate of embraces between a man and a woman, we were in a position of wanting to draw out the experience for as long as possible while at the same time wanting to charge headlong into orgasm. As we always do in our most harmonious relationship, we reached the point of climax together.

So close to orgasm… your hands on my hips told me to leave your mouth and get between your legs. Quickly, I spin about and plunge into your vagina. The thrusting and withdrawal was magnificent. Your body in concert with my motions… the muscles in your young vagina squeezing my penis to the point of pained pleasure. My penis… my young organ… has never been this long before, its head so large and full. Orgasm had arrived, our bodies writhing like two snakes, pulsing into each other, trembling with ecstasy. I began to ejaculate. The pumping sensation was volatile in its force. You screamed with pleasure and I kept on surging seminal fluid into your hungry vagina. Pumping and pleasure… both of us wanting it to never stop. To my entire being, Rosewoman, you have never been this beautiful nor more desirable before. I pumped until the ejaculate finally ended and then slid back and forth in you a few more times because it felt so damn good. I then withdrew. The Chinga were heard off in the distance beating their drums. Thunder covered the earth and we felt like the King and Queen of the Universe.

Now laying along side you, telling you how much I love you - placing verbal roses in your ears - something most unusual began to occur. The semen that was in you began to drain from your vagina. The milky fluid formed into a rivulet and began making its way into the void. By this point, milky had given way to green iridescence. The stream flowed for what seemed a few minutes and then ceased. The glowing fluid began to take on a life of its own. Working its way through the void, stretching towards the blackness of nothing, what was long in shape now spun itself into a spinning, green glowing sphere. The spinning increased rotational speed and while in the process of doing so, the sphere began growing in diameter. Whirling faster and faster - growing all the while - what was once a green glow, now changed into chromium yellow and then into phosphorus white. Suddenly, the sphere left us and bolted faster than the speed of light straight into the depths of nothingness. All that was left for us to observe was a pencil thin line of light, the end of which was closest to us, raced to catch up with the other end.

We just lay there, looking at one another in disbelief. We had no idea what just took place. I was about to say something to you when we were stunned by an enormous burst of white light coming from a distant part of nothing. It started out as a small, high intensity point of light. Then a shock wave of highly charged photons washed over us as if we were laying on a sandy beach being pounded by high wind driven waves.

Momentarily blinded, our vision quickly returned to a semblance of normal. Off in the direction of the explosion, we could see a small, yellow-green glowing sphere of light positioned in proximity to and in line with the infinite string of spheres. What we were witnessing was the birth of a new universe. Then, the profound impact of what had just taken place overwhelmed the two of us. New universe are created out of that which love produces. Love creates universe! It is the only way 'something' is created out of nothing. Love is the prime engine of life and is the one thing that transcends the chasm between the creative life force and the physical world.

In a state of humble silence, as we contemplated what had taken place, a familiar voice came to us out of the nothingness. It was Krishna speaking.

"As the old woman said to you… only the special ones are chosen. You were the chosen ones this time. You have created life in the highest scheme of things. And that should answer the one question you did not have an opportunity to ask. Universe is created from a deep, all-powerful love consummated between two people who are undeniably in love with each other.

"It is now time for you to return to your lives. Blessings be with you, my children. You have done exceedingly well."

Christmas morning, judging by the sounds coming from outside our window. Sleigh bells and the sounds of happy children ushered in a new day for Rosewoman and Glassman. Pulling the bedclothes from my head, I gently touched your warm-as-toast body to awaken you. But, you were already awake and listening to the sounds outside. Below, we could hear the sounds of voices. One appeared to be the innkeeper's. And, judging by the stream of orders being issued, the other was 'Mrs. Innkeeper'.

Within minutes of our listening to what was going on downstairs, a knocking was coming from our door.

"Breakfast awaits you whenever you two are ready to come down and join us."

"Thank you very much!" Your voice responded in the most courteous tone.

Within the half hour, we made our way down to the dining area. Before our eyes was a truly amazing display of breakfast foods to select from. To me, though, there was something very familiar about the buffet we were looking at. And, as suddenly as the moment of recall appeared, it vanished from my mind. Yet, your face reflected mine and you said, "When we have sat down, I must tell you about the most amazing dream I had last night."

"You too?!" I exclaimed. "You will not believe what I dreamt. Caves, giant lizard men, the most passionate lovemaking with you imaginable…."

You then cut me off by placing your index finger on my lips. You smiled and quietly said, "I think we both had the same dream, my darling and I'm aware of everything you saw in yours."

We sat and silently ate the wonderful breakfast. No further words between us were needed; for the expression on our faces said all that was to be said about the dream. We understood where we had been.

After breakfast was thoroughly enjoyed and over with, it was time for us to depart the Blue Ogre. As we were settling up with the innkeeper at the front desk, we couldn't help staring at the man. When he was finished working his tally sheet, he presented us with the bill. On it was printed the words, "No charge. Compliments of the management." I voiced an objection to him, and couldn't help but noticing that the fellow bore a strong resemblance to our 'host' in the dream. He just smiled at us.

"There is no charge to such a perfect, loving couple. It was an honor having you stay here and…. Oh, one moment, please."

As we were turning to leave, the innkeeper reached under the front desk and withdrew a pouch. He laid the bag on top of the counter.

"These are for you." Pointing to the pouch, he continued, "These are yours."

You took the pouch and we both were intrigued by the design that was embroidered on the outside. There, on a pouch made of the finest purple silk, was a most exquisitely sewn image of an extended, vertical hand with the palm exposed. In the middle of the palm was the design of a wagon wheel. Immediately, to those who know of such things, this was the hand of Buddha.

With tender, yet sure fingers, you opened the pouch and poured out the contents into my hand. Jewels! Diamonds, sapphires , emeralds … rubies. Astounded and somewhat breathless, we wrenched our eyes from the gems and looked up at the innkeeper. Standing before us was no longer the innkeeper, but the 'blue faced one', Krishna.

"You fulfilled our fondest dream when you took each other in love," he said, "that we thought you deserving of a symbol of our gratitude. Thus, we sent one of the Chinga - they can fly, you know - to Angkor Wat to retrieve the gems you were in search of.* The stone was too heavy for the likes of you to move, so we dispatched one of the original builders. The stone was no trouble for him to move."

In disbelief, we looked back down at the gems, then back to Krishna. There was no longer Krishna standing before us. No one was there. Gone he was like a wisp of smoke.

We picked up our bags and walked to the car - saying nothing to each other. We then departed the driveway where it met with the narrow roadway, and stopped for one final look at the Blue Ogre. Looking back over our shoulders, we were not that surprised to see there was no longer a Blue Ogre inn. There was nothing but an old shed standing on the spot.

Our dream is what we had as the most wonderful gift of the season, dear Rosewoman. And with that dream in our memories forever, it will serve as the engine to conjure other dreams and visions between the two of us. While driving back to the Western Midlands, I couldn't help but utter the mantra that guides my life, "Glassman loves his Rosewoman", because now it took on a whole new meaning, beautiful mother of universe. "I love you dear lady."