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certainly accounted for my life-long interest in magic and folklore especially with that viewing device. What else could that have been if it wasn’t some kind of Gypsy crystal ball? It changed colour. I saw images inside and even remember glimpsing a picture of outer space. The monks themselves had shown me a box which could easily have passed as the legendary tinderbox used in magic to make things vanish. This event just screamed of everything I suspected about folklore and science and what I believed to be the foundation of my obsession. This was a breakthrough. I couldn’t contain myself. A voice in the distance bellowed at me, insisting that it was only a dream but the familiar denial wasn’t washing. In fact I now recognised the denial as part of a phenomena that didn’t necessarily come from me. All these years it had won over by masking any of the oddities with a type of programme. My own free will and critical sense now challenged that programme and it was making my head feel as though circuits were malfunctioning. Regardless of the slight burn and the confusion that accompanied it, I tried to focus on nothing but that incident at school. My single-minded thinking that night was finally helping me to make that breakthrough. The following few days were equally peculiar. Life would never be the same. As suspected, I didn’t sleep that particular night but instead slept for most of the following morning. My pattern and lifestyle were changing and that day, my dreams took on an unusual and bizarre form. I remember reading many cases from UFOlogy where abductees were warned through dreams to forget incidents. Alien entities have been known to penetrate dreams. This is a phenomenon that dates back even further than our folklore. Wasn’t there an event featured in the Bible during the period of Christ’s birth where a warning was delivered in the form of a dream? The dream environment seemed to have been “their” territory where interaction could comfortably be carried out without interruption. Now that my visitor’s programme had accidentally malfunctioned one particular night, I had at last been spared an insight into their strange manoeuvres. I had obviously seen too much. Rather than Pandora’s Box being opened and being saturated with its wealth of information, I had instead been exposed to just a glimpse when the lid briefly lifted. The Greek legend has it that this box was filled with hope and I would no doubt become hungry for more of that hope and it would be much harder to return to the blissful ignorance I once enjoyed. 30 A series of incidents occurred in which I would keep waking and drifting off