sincebecomeswhy

Deep within the forest of Halrora, in a mossy hut near a hidden glade, lived a small troll name Erlander, whose shock of orange hair and short stature made him unlike any other troll in the Kingdom. Erlander was kind and helpful, always eager to lend a helping hand to the village folk who lived nearby, or to play games with their children after school. One day, after a brief rain which only dampened the ground, Erlander was gathering mushrooms for his afternoon meal, placing them gently into a burlap sack as he scoured the forest floor. He avoided the brightly colored toadstools, as he knew they were poisonous, and plucked only the dullest looking tan colored fungus. He grinned as he stood up from picking a particularly large one. Suddenly a bright light appeared on the horizon, a pinpoint of intense blinding whiteness. The friendly troll dropped his sack, hurried back to his home, flung open the wooden door with a clang and headed straight for a large black chest against

To hold a thing in the hand is to hold it in the mind. – traditional Vanguere saying The young acolyte placed his right palm against the receptacle plate. With his left hand he turned the dial to the halfway point, chest pounding as he waited for the results to appear. "Huh. JD gaw whak. Uh, a-brogin." The mish-mash servant class language tumbled from his dry lips, thoughts as jumbled as his spoken words. Dirty linens, wrapped awkwardly about his torso, hung loose from scrawny limbs. Cracked skin circled the heels of his bare feet, like chipped wall plaster. He held still. When radial yellow lines started flowing out from under his palm across the metal surface, he snatched his hand away. A holo bubble popped out from the wall, a swirl of multi-colored animations squiggling like banded worms in mid-air. After a few seconds of muttering and squinting at the display, the acolyte threw both arms into the air, turned his face towards the ceiling and proclaimed “Yat u quey!” A voice

A tale of autism, Asperger Syndrome, and discovery based on the true story of my experiences. Prologue Vignette One – Floating He floated near the ceiling, up in the front right corner of the classroom. Looking down, the six year old boy could see the top of his teacher's head, and the faces of his classmates. Further down the row closest to the door, he saw himself watching and listening to the teacher. The boy felt like Superman since he could now fly. He would often imagine leaving his body during times of increased stress, caused in part by the teacher herself. She wasn't exactly a mean woman, but had a harsh manner that frightened him. At home in the mornings, the fear he felt would sometimes cause him to become nauseous at the thought of going to school. This was made worse by the apprehension he felt with the anticipation of trying to interact with his classmates. He would continue to have a knot in his stomach every morning before school for the next twelve