Old run down black neighborhood. Today immigrants have all the stores, back then we had a few. A few of us teens were taking building surveys, part of a work study collaboration of the community development organization and a local college. The intent was to introduce innercity black kids to the world of architecture via hands-on projects.The building was on the hinge of being torn down or refurbished. It was an old dusty curio shop selling home brews, herbs and charms. We were to access the possibilities, find an existing floorplan or draw one up.Found an old sci-fi book, turned out to be a fake cover. Inside there were page after page of faint scribblings. It all crumbled in my hands except for one page I put in my notebook to save it. I wanted to share it but I couldn't, took it home. Later I was looking at it to examine it closer. All the paper around the design had fallen away, it looked so fragile I put it in an old cigarette tin also found at the building. I could hear a faint humm as I watched the paper form raise from the bottom of the tin and float exactly one quarter inch from where it sat. Then a voice in a corner of my mind. "We have always known how to go to and fro, and now it comes to you to guard the way." I thought about where I found it, I was there, in the old shop. "Oh man", I panicked, I was back at home. "Also guard your thoughts while holding the stargate..........."I still have it and the best place to hide it is in plain sight. See my picture in the photo section.
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