A rain drop fell upon the face of Sheba, upon the cheek part of her face, and she awoke, up. Not under a table at 4, Rutherford Close, but in the crook of the Sphinx’s paw. Looking up she saw, not the under of a table, but above high the moving of leaf great trees. Then it came to pass that she told her dream to the Sphinx and cried because the guns were not chocolate and there was no lasagne.
They were yet by the broken temple still.
Sphinx said that she was understanding, but she could not, as tears were not in the remit of eternal beings.
I must to make my dreams become a real, said Sheba, from inside her tears, Who or when is the most powerful? and who can make this dream of peace come? I am needing, my Sphinx.
Well, some kind of king or empress, a frightening tyrant, a menacing bandit prince or an elected politician who might weld some powers perchance, Mused the Sphinx, Perchance these are asking a question beyond them. Perhaps, Sheba may take her wish at a place of puissant power like the fountain that is known to answer called the Terrific Fountain. It is in far, far, from here in a mountain, you will must travel for many to achieve but, but, but. Said the Sphinx.
But what? said Sheba
I have on good author that there is a coming true to its wishes, Assured the Sphinx.
And in what currency shall my true wishes be paid? Asked Sheba.
In pay, you must travel in all sincerity, you must concentrate on your wishment at each step and rest each in the company of others who travel thus.
Will you not be at my side?
I will not, my presence would undo the doing.
Then we must part this awhile my love. Will you await my return and not be lured into the far stars where I can not.
Your wish is my and your love is my ocean, I will await.
I’ll be back, said Sheba.
And so it came that Sheba travelled to the Terrific Fountain, that her wantings might become. She travelled in a grim grouping inclusive, a web designer, a phisherman, a personal trainer, a hedge fund manager, an wellness guru, a jogging blogger, an influencer and a don’t care assistant.
Each, they sat by the wayside in company and must each tell the why and wherefore of themselves, also the journey that they had become.
The Guardians of the Cave 