Below is an excerpt from
The Enchanted Skyscraper


It was once that the twelve worlds were as one, and to move between dimensions was the privilege of children and the effort of none. But long before the moon had grown old, the passages between worlds grew frayed and tattered with use. And so it was that a child came into a world, with a gift that was meant to be the healing of the tears in the fabric of the universe. He had the power to close the worlds, one from another.

It is true that in all of us is a uniqueness that cannot be taught, tamed, or understood by anyone else. Usually we tame it within ourselves as we grow up, but there are those that need more guidance. Inevitably, they are the ones most difficult to reach.

This child, the healing of the universe within him, far from being nurtured, grew up in dark places—an orphan, hunted and alone. He chose his own name, Nicodemus, for there was no one to bestow one upon him. He was in his middle age before he had even discovered the gift, and then only because his soul had been so seared and scarred that he fled from everything he knew. And so it was that as he aged, he hoarded his power.

There is a place between worlds where time does not parade itself by as it is wont to do in your world, where time whispers and only disturbs the crumbling of dry leaves. It was in this crossroads that Nicodemus sought a haven and began to close off not only himself from other worlds, but unwittingly, also worlds one from another. Many things were lost by this; many things were trapped in places they should not and could not exist.

But Nicodemus continued to close himself off until there was only one passage left, one great rent in the fabric of existence. This he kept secret for generations, until people forgot that the other worlds existed at all.  He chose isolation as his refuge and built a huge building, seeking solace in silence. Many years passed, solidifying his solitude until it was almost a talisman worn around his neck.

To the people outside, it looked as if the building was a monument to something great, but no one knew what.  Not one of them had ever been inside the building, and yet no one knew that.  They took an abstract pride in it; none knew the purpose of the building and it didn’t occur to any to wonder.  They just passed the building each day without a glance, accepting its existence as they accepted their own.  Until at last, another orphan looked up and saw the building, not for what it was, but what she dreamt it could be.


The Enchanted Skyscraper, 76 pages with 48 full-color illustrations.
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