The Touch

Texte du rabat

And the rains came. Not in the real world where the sun shined brightly overhead, but in the now dark, awakened corner's of Grey's mind. Every time he closed his eyes, a kaleidoscope of colors would reflect off the heavens and dance with the lightning above. If he listened carefully, he could hear the night singing like a voltage through the ground. It was a strange feeling, one that he was just beginning to understand. The accident had obviously altered more than the structure of the car. It had almost killed him. The trauma he incurred had opened a new door into the powers of his mind. He had been given a gift, one which enabled him to see into the lives of others. Their thoughts of good and evil were now toys for his amusement. That or nightmares in the delicate strength of his grasp. His hands had become windows to the soul. Now, with the help of an old friend, and that of a salient priest, he would soon learn the truth about why all of this madness had suddenly come to pass. In the midst of the storm, Grey Thomas couldn't help but continue to look for the light.