Telepathy Incident

If you're intrigued by the possibilities of telepathy, you may like Encore: A Love Story of Hypnotic Abduction, and you may like to read my essay, "Snake Telepathy at the Serpent Mound: True story about a snake that responded to my thoughts."

Here's a brief excerpt: That night, I tried to sleep inside my van, but I always preferred sleeping outside metal encasemets. I liked to walk without shoes, without flashlights and to sleep without ordinary comforts. So I opened the door.

I eased onto the earth, barefoot on the moss, to head to the Wee House by the Mound. To lie down a few feet from the water rushing through the branch and hear the sound of dark. I penetrated the landscape of freshly fallen sticks, leaves gone bitter with the dusty winds.

I yanked open the door to step inside. In the dark, I could tell the place was dirty, moldy, filled with bits of junk. I found the bed by touch. It had covers, and I lay under them them, still dressed, alone, not warm but adventuring.

I enjoyed the silence for a while and then the rustling happened in the corner. A sound distinctive, sliding, curving: snake. Incantor loved all snakes, whatever kind, and so would I. I’d never killed one, never wished one ill.

I wished perhaps that it had been somewhere besides right in front of the escape-door. I rested, tense and poised, alert, breathed deeply, deeply, calm, calm, calm.

I remembered how they could not hear, so talking wouldn’t work, but I figured vibing, sending love telepathically might communicate. I started sending love, goodwill and suddenly—

It moved fast toward me!