The idiot in the village, some five hundred years ago amidst the foul stench of what was known as the village. The abhorrent stench of everyday life was on the move, figures of dark brown attire matched the muddy surroundings it was as if all blended and to some extent so it did. The village idiot Brown John flapped his hands and danced around yipping as he went.
Talking was more like grunting more a mix of point and gesture, no Latin here, for brown John unknown to others was the supreme interloper an observer for interplanetary development seconded from the great ship in the sky that had mapped development from the birth of Christ.
The overseer for the Lord in heaven a cosmos away, John was half way through his present earth life there was much intelligence in his mud caked apparel and on this very day John had to go, for the execution of village idiots was night and as far as John was aware upon given instructions he was to avail himself to the hovering star when the moon became full and powerful in gravity.
The village was becoming noisy low drummers were sounding from afar down the track Sunday was approaching far dawn the track, death was coming for Sunday. It would be the villagers who were foaming at the mouth for bloodlust that day.
John is behind one of the camped village dwellings, crouched was he, the night of his personal ascendance moulded near an ale barrel was he. The large moon she was pulsing slowly John stood up immersed in light was he absorbed, was he John fitted within an egg shaped aura and also emitting an astral aura and he began the process of retrieval to the command of the white light.
To report to seven masters of the universe who would with precision place John within another timeframe of evolution to inspect the development of what we have come to describe as further versions of man in the universe. We go with the mark of God upon the palm of the right hand.
