The streets are bustling highways of etheric energy gashed out in the astral-body of the Earth, as all modern cities are. One single strip of human consumption. Vast constructs programmed for profit and desire. Like a goat eating a sugar-coated pop-can, I take great delight in these creatures’ delicious little webs; but of course, the spider never catches me. I am a drop of dew among the flies.
I have found a suitable weapon…. Inside the “Silver Moon – Metaphysical Shoppe”. Shelf upon shelf of witchy mischief, profound revelations, and tales of sexual encounters with ghosts. Crystals harboring Atlantean spaceships within their etheric matrix, cauldrons emblazoned with leafy pentagrams, and wands made by someone’s grandmother.
