A trite technique. Overdone and incredibly clichéd. But sometimes the best option was the tried and true. Not that crystal gazing worked like it did in Hollywood B movies. Swirling smoke and hazy, mystical images didn’t twist, twine or gambol within a green, glowing sphere. No, it was more of a meditative device, a physical mantra. Something solid to help peel back layers of the invisible. Staring into the clear, bottomless depth helped him empty his mind. Helped him pull away from the present and look into the myriad futures with his inner eye. He couldn’t see as far or as clearly this way as he did with his dreams. In his dreams time lost all meaning, all anchor. Past, present and future collided in a kaleidoscope of colors and emotions. But what he lost in power and clarity he gained in direction in his conscious state. He could guide his sight, control it, look for particular things. An important skill for a private eye. Not that his power hadn’t caused its own measure of difficulties and obstacles in his life.
