Woman Made of Green: Jayke Cloudwalker: stories from the Mystical and the Unknown, #1

By Rain Teller

"Before you stands the disconnected soul of a woman whose genius's whispers are of true greatness, but whose suffering has overshadowed all the love in her heart. She needs a healer to heal, just like you need to heal by becoming a healer."

Meet Jayke Cloudwalker, a broken-hearted private eye, whose office rests above the clouds, in the metaphysical realm of the Mystical and the Unknown. He wears a hat made of ayahuasca leaves, and looks like a peculiarly shaped musical note.

In "Woman Made of Green", Cloudwalker is commissioned with finding three women who have only one thing in common: they are all dead.
One by one, the detective is about to bring their souls back to life, so that he himself may rebirth.

What others say

"It's like Dante's comedy, but better"
-Mark Vertigo

"It has a rare dreamlike quality that really resonates with me and my own free spirit."
-AB

"Deep, multi-layered and profound, Jayke Cloudwalker will challenge you on matters of the metaphysical that pays dividends on every read."
-Erik Smithson

• Language: English
• Publisher: TheRainWillCome
• Release date: Dec 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781540124814

Rain Teller

Behind the curtains of everyday convenience hides a world of wonder. A world of magic that has all the shades but those of gray. A world where light penetrates the darkness and darkness embraces the light. The Mystery speaks through it, the rain dances its enigmatic songs. TheRainWillCome dedicates itself to capturing glimpses of this world without disturbing its subtleties — bringing rich, multidimensional stories, sacred in their nature, spiritually entertaining, artful, and profound. The Stage bleeds, you see, and the Theatre goes strong. Mother Earth is barely heard over the rattles of commerce, and the mystical language of the unconscious lies bleeding where our geniuses sing their divine songs. Yet, I still believe that the rain will come. Join me on this journey; one storytelling droplet at a time, until I'm not. -rainteller

Book preview

Woman Made of Green

Jayke Cloudwalker: stories from the Mystical and the Unknown, Volume 1

Rain Teller

Published by TheRainWillCome, 2018.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

WOMAN MADE OF GREEN

First edition. December 13, 2018.

Copyright © 2018 Rain Teller.

ISBN: 978-1540124814

Written by Rain Teller.

INTRODUCTION

Every evening, since the inception of his private eye company, ephemeral cones of green, planty smoke, produced by a mouth's blow, danced joyfully, voyaging towards the ceiling; their faces smiling, their hands raised in a blissful satisfaction; and, then, gone.

The maker of the cones, an above average height, sticky man with an unusually large stomach, looking like a peculiarly charming musical note on two legs, with a beard of silver hair, sat in his wobbly, wooden chair before the quarter of a working desk. It would be fancy to say that Jayke Cloudwalker had an entire room — an office — to his disposal, or that he had his name painted on the entrance door, in a typographically sophisticated font. This would be fancy indeed, but things like that happen only in books or movies; the reality, however, is that of a working desk shared with three other men: all trying to make things roll for the good of the Mystical and the Unknown.

THE ARRIVAL

CHAPTER 1

Invaded by a tree's crown, the Western wall of the office screamed in a crushing pain!

Jayke Cloudwalker's fedora (made of ayahuasca leaves; a gift from an old friend) barely held to its skully host when, out of the blue, green crowns invaded the space where the private eye has once planted and organized his primitive office. Part of the ceiling was wrecked, and the blue of the sky revealed itself through a hole.

The matter of fact was, the unusual invasion of the tree was so impactful that the bricks of the wall felt it improper to fall down (as gravity would advise and dictated), but, instead, decided to levitate above the ground, almost immediately spiralling their consciousnesses into something else (shooboom, shooboom, shooboom, swoooooosh — they resounded). Soon, every brick reinvented its physical self, and, levitating still, turned into a black sphere with a wide mouth of white teeth that began to sing a joyful song of meadows, pastures, and woods green.

These new, spherical trumpeters of darkness, now sung in a choir,