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The Sanctuary of Shifting Mirrors book two STC

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 The Sanctuary of Shifting Mirrors The Space Tourist Chronicles (book two) Author:  John Bennett AKA JJFBbennett   Kindle edition out soon After the profound discovery of the Sunrise Tree , the crew of the Subi seeks a simple respite at the legendary Rumour Mill . But this 'stop and revive' station is no mere diner. It's a sanctuary of shifting mirrors and liquid reality , where the greatest temptation isn't on the menu. When a simple reflection offers a glimpse into a life of forgotten comforts, the crew must learn that in a place that trades in dreams, the price of indulgence is memory itself. Podcast:  https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXaHuXMcUMrhIzfjKlj9clJCOfOlb5B5B  Meta TV: https://www.facebook.com/watch/100063480315046/1020837046583872/ Blogger: https://www.jjfbbennett.com/2025/09/the-space-tourist-chronicles-book-one.html FB Subscriber Hub https://www.facebook.com/share/g/1AycZvNRzH/ Tags #art # Spacestation # scifi #fictionalworld #story # ar...

Godin Defence: Why can't everything just stay the same?




Life promised so much but little favour came my way.
And over this vista of nothingness I claimed what is mine.
I waited for all of the promises and yet none did come.
Others more fortunate gained splendor, but splendor was not me.
And I gained self respect on other's misfortune.
But your misfortune is not of my concern.
Count your blessings and rot in your tragedy.
Yes it will end in tears should you trespass my den.

I do not travel,  my miracle is here.
I remained close to my heritage.
This colonial might.
This is God's country, he gave it to me.
I will deny you entry.
You are contagion, you are far less than me.

There are trees in my backyard, insects and lizards.
Rodents scamper at my feet and bats by my ears.
My dog is obedient.
In silence we sit.
Impatient and anxious , I do not want change.
In dark moments I tend to my spite.
With bottle in hand I seek like-minded.

A good  man I have been.
I have done no wrong.
My house is clean.
My garden is tendered.
My lawn is mowed.
My animals are fed.
My hatred is strong.

This is my patch, it's where I belong.
This is my home, you are not welcome.
This is my country and I trust no other.
Why can't everything just stay the same?

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