“You are like Jesus in that you can walk across the water to get to your Dry Spot, your place of safety. Go ahead. In your own time.”
Philip goes for it. Yes, he can walk across water. He is a God in this place. He can even control the weather, which will come next. But first the Dry Spot, that Dry Rock in the Dry Spot. Here he can rest, he knows. He decides an hour would be good. Hour Rock becomes a secondary name. Hour Spot.
Fern leaves him alone for a bit in his special place, knowing silence is good. Rest from guidance too.
He’s walked across the water. He’s almost there. Just over there it is.
Ahh. There. He settles in. The rock acts like a natural chair for him. He is comfortable. He is one with this world that mirrors our own in dimension if not quite realism. Not yet. People are coming, he knows. Cars, horses, animals, *windmills* already here. He just has to find the Data Hall in those dreams to learn where all of them went, all his favorite humans. Like Fink, like Susan.
—–
58, 59, *60*. Now for Wet (Rock).
Suddenly he was in the clouds, making it happen.
Poo-wer!
Sunklands 