1	A Journey By Train »
The rain has only been falling for a little while; there is still a dry odor in the air as if the damp hasn't yet soaked into the ground and the plaster of the dilapidated station. The rain is a curtain of beaded silver . . .
2	Geometric Alphabet »
The architects of Babylon drew straight lines, hard geometry to define edges and perimeters. They measured the arc of the sun with triangular devices, plumbs dropping straight down like descending vertebrae . . .
3	Heaven »
The canopy of heaven was to be built by three brothers, blacksmiths all . . .
4	Iris »
She releases the iris petals, and they close again. She strokes the bright yellow landing strip on the lower petal, the splashed indicator that directs the bees to their landing point . . .
5	Limbo »
The secret to oneiric illumination is patience. Limbo, while reviled by the Church for being neither Above nor Below, is a perpetual state of indecision . . .
6	Midnight »
The most terrifying dream I had as a child was of the fortune teller in the desert. He would sneak up on me, appearing suddenly around corners or through doorways. Regardless of where and when I was, I would suddenly find myself in the waste, under a moonless sky . . .
7	Red »
In the beginning, there is chaos. There is form, but it is unorthodox. Unorganized. Riotous. There is color, but no order . . .
8	River »
Rivers figure predominantly as barriers and as symbols of transformation. Heraclitus believed you could never step in the same river twice . . .
9	The Fortune Teller »
He sits, off-center, at a rectangular table. On his right is a haphazard scatter of candles. Clustered like offerings to the Madonna and Child, the votives are of varying height and color, though their flames are all clean and yellow . . .
10	Thirteen »
To be afraid of the number thirteen is to be afraid of Heaven, to be afraid of what comes after we are whole and complete. It is not a plague fear or a fear of oppression . . .
11	Vision »
I suppose . . .  it can hurt you as much as you like. It can be whatever you make it . . .
12	Fish »
There is the old truism about fish: give a man a fish, and you offer him hope; teach him how to fish, and you give him purpose . . .
13	The Ribbon Man »
He wears a rainbow assortment of ribbons pinned in a regimented grid to his naked flesh. The prick of all those pins mottles his skin, an ordered sequence of bruises and blemishes beneath the haphazard pattern of his silk patchwork . . . [art]