The following is a pivotal, early chapter in the book regarding what happens to Greg and, therefore, to the other, newly empowered, Rainbow Arc of Fire superheroes, but most especially to his relationship with Paul. Slight of Mind is one of the most autobiographical novels in the series for it parallels almost exactly events in my own life.
Chapter Five
Soon, Greg's attention is diverted by the trio of enticing crystals arrayed in the window nearby, and by the many clear stones arranged on the sill. He contemplates the vagaries of fate and folly and reaches over to give the three dangling spheres a twirl.
Staring deeply through their sparkling contours, he speculates about the several courses that a single life can take, the alternate turns that one might make in the great maze that life sometimes becomes for unwary human beings.
Delighted by a reflective brightness that suddenly dazzles him, he turns to watch the refracted multitude of rainbow arcs become a flying profusion across the surfaces of every form and figure in this antiseptic room. This casual effort adds so many rainbow colors as a purifying agent to the current pain.
The paths taken by the many spectra emanating from the crystal orbs cross one another here and there, some seeming to meld briefly in passing; but then all quickly race onward once again.
As if in the momentary granting of a wish, or the temporary touch of an elusive dream, to Greg all sadness now seems in abeyance, every possible loss briefly held in check. But he knows that this visual effect will not last for long. While life may be altered temporarily, even extended by the willful intrusions of the living, it cannot absolutely be changed for the dying or for the dead. Though one's thoughts, no matter how pervasive, are hopefully inclined toward permanent resuscitation, eventually all such efforts will fail. The world transitions, as it should, and another soul moves beyond.
Yet with every casual speculation, each stray desire unchecked, what might we survivors curiously discover? And what might we thoughtlessly discard, should we, or some other, have a mind to slight the current pattern of our lives, a course that may once have appeared permanently penned onto paper or seemingly etched in stone?
Chapter Five
Soon, Greg's attention is diverted by the trio of enticing crystals arrayed in the window nearby, and by the many clear stones arranged on the sill. He contemplates the vagaries of fate and folly and reaches over to give the three dangling spheres a twirl.
Staring deeply through their sparkling contours, he speculates about the several courses that a single life can take, the alternate turns that one might make in the great maze that life sometimes becomes for unwary human beings.
Delighted by a reflective brightness that suddenly dazzles him, he turns to watch the refracted multitude of rainbow arcs become a flying profusion across the surfaces of every form and figure in this antiseptic room. This casual effort adds so many rainbow colors as a purifying agent to the current pain.
The paths taken by the many spectra emanating from the crystal orbs cross one another here and there, some seeming to meld briefly in passing; but then all quickly race onward once again.
As if in the momentary granting of a wish, or the temporary touch of an elusive dream, to Greg all sadness now seems in abeyance, every possible loss briefly held in check. But he knows that this visual effect will not last for long. While life may be altered temporarily, even extended by the willful intrusions of the living, it cannot absolutely be changed for the dying or for the dead. Though one's thoughts, no matter how pervasive, are hopefully inclined toward permanent resuscitation, eventually all such efforts will fail. The world transitions, as it should, and another soul moves beyond.
Yet with every casual speculation, each stray desire unchecked, what might we survivors curiously discover? And what might we thoughtlessly discard, should we, or some other, have a mind to slight the current pattern of our lives, a course that may once have appeared permanently penned onto paper or seemingly etched in stone?
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