Beneath Ceaseless Skies - Between Gasp and Ground, I See by Julie Reeser
I'm sure there was a vision. There had to be, as that's the whole symbiotic exchange. It’s how Mother worked her fortunes. While the syopterae feed on our smoke-saturated brains, we go to Tera. We experience visions there. Past or potential futures. I don't remember one that first time. I do remember Mother wiping the streaming tears from my eye, her own dead eye darting fish-like and upside-down as she bent over my face.