Gayle's Spells Work



Aaron Hughes ripped off Walter Krouse's mask, and, in doing so, he exposed the face of evil for the world to see! -- The Global Watcher [article excerpt]

Aaron Hughes shined the flashlight of truth on Walter Krouse.  Is he madly scurrying like a cockroach? -- The Information Front [article excerpt]

Aaron Hughes broke the floodgates wide open!  Now the whole world is "onto" Walter Krouse and his pseudo profession! -- The Daily Standard [article excerpt]


        The Liberators kept clapping for Ralph and Angel.  Gayle Rosedale, too, enjoyed the romantic scene -- not as a physically present spectator, but, rather, as a remote viewer via her trusted crystal ball, Siren.  The interior doorbell jingled, causing Gayle to avert her gaze--and without eyes cast on the crystal sphere--the images began to fade away.  She went forth to greet her incoming customer, feeling quite proud of herself for putting such a potent love spell on Angel.

        "Queen in the house!" she called out, referring to Frances Prescott's regal middle name [and the last word of the fragmented sentence was a colloquial metaphor for "store"].

        "Oh, hi, Gayle.  You startled me."

        "Don't blame me; just blame my loud mouth!  Sometimes I can't seem to keep it under control."

        "Where do you go after you finish working here," inquired Frances, out of sheer curiosity.

        "Here," Gayle simply replied.

        "You mean you live here?!" she said briskly, seeking absolute confirmation to the surprising response she'd just received.

        "It's been my home for over thirty years.  I wouldn't choose to live anywhere else.  I adore this place.  What about you?  What do you call home?"

        "I live in Raleigh."

        "Yeah, I know.  You told me that.  I mean, do you live in an apartment, house, townhouse, cave... what?"

        "Ha!  Definitely not a cave!  I have a two-story house.  It's in the suburbs.  But I plan on eventually moving out to the country."

        "Why," asked Gayle.

        "Because I love nature and animals, and I want to be surrounded by both."

        "Same here.  You won't find many gypsies that aren't spiritually and emotionally connected to ATWA."

        "What's ATWA," Frances asked, intrigued by the unusual-sounding word.

        "Oh, sorry.  For a second I forgot that you aren't familiar with our jargon.  'ATWA' is an acronym.  It stands for 'Air, Trees, Water, and Animals.'  By the way, if you append an 'R' on the end, it converts to 'AT WAR.' "

        "Whom are gypsies at war against," Frances curiously inquired.

        Mrs. Rosedale's face suddenly bore a Cheshire-cat-like smile, as a clandestine gaze sparked her wise eyes.  Then she said in a tight-lipped, conspiratorial tone, "We'll get into that at some other time, my dear."  The sly expression quickly dissolved as she changed the subject.  "For now, you just need to get started on the first book I picked out for you to read."

        Frances followed her teacher's lead down the aisle like a loyal dog trailing his master.  Arriving at the bookshelf, Gayle reached up and withdrew a book.  Frances was initially intimidated upon seeing the immensely thick volume.  And its pitch black cover made it appear arcane and spooky.  Gayle warned her to be careful holding it, for it was very fragile due to excessive handling by numerous gypsy scholars throughout the ages.  Frances supported the weighty book with both hands under it like a baby, and read the engraved title on the hardbound cover: The Divine Spark.



        Hmm, she murmured.  Then she gently turned the front cover back and perused the introduction on the first page.  Gayle crossed her arms and observed the interest and concentration etched on her student's face as she commenced her first lesson.

        After half a minute, Frances lifted up her head to look at Gayle.  She commenced in summation of that which she'd just read: "So, the author is saying that human beings have a divine spark deep within.  This is interesting!  Here it says: 'One may fan his symbolic spark into a blaze of illumination.'  May I continue reading aloud, Gayle?"

        "Go right on ahead!  Read as much as you like," permitted Gayle, smiling like a proud parent.  Frances' keen interest pleased her greatly.

        " 'The secret modus operandi is long and arduous, and not for the faint of heart.  It was developed by the ancients in their underground societies, and the training is reserved only for the dedicated, deserving initiate.  In the tomb, his inner eye opened, he received his spiritual reward: born anew into a dimension free of borders and boundaries, space and time, rules and restrictions.  The Phoenix never before had any inclination that his golden nirvana existed.  Unbeknownst to him, all his life he'd been languishing in the dark like a man born blind -- never having experienced true sight, spiritual sight.  Therefore, he never conceived of its magnificence.  Eternal liberation [beyond the mental/emotional states] is invariably the ecstatic result of the dormant spark ignited and the closed eye opened.

        'The intention of this literary work is not to bring the reader into the light, as mere words are incapable of guiding one to the culmination of this rigorous spiritual journey.  Rather, one will obtain from this text a fundamental understanding of the divine spark and the related "third eye."  Furthermore, the culprits who have suppressed man's spiritual insight will be exposed, as well as their methods and purposes for doing so.' "

        Frances halted herengaged in a long embrace and kiss