Just read. It's only a teaser for what may or may not come.




Me, Myself, and I hurdle down the worn trail. Midnight had long since passed into oblivion, feeding the twilight’s waking dawn with a vengeance.
Myself quickly howls out to Milo, trying to locate him.
Milo! I cry out, my resonant howling thrumming the deep chords of the Other World, carrying the sound waves to wherever he was. Me was worried- had he finally been caught? Were the villages on their way for me? We’d stayed In one town for too long…
Relax, Myself soothes Me, and I had to agree. He was fine…. There he was.
Over here! Milo howled, somehow richer, giving the colour of burnt umber to a voice more animalistic than any other. Myself swiftly changed paces, running towards the noise as fast as Zephyr, the West Wind. Me was still fretting, though the worries were baseless.


And suddenly, he was there, a dark red fox, many times larger than regular-not to mention standing on his hind legs- grinning boyishly at us, and I simply couldn’t help but to join the grin.
“Hey, Dani. Or is it Tee I’m talking to?” Milo asked, and Myself shakes his head.
“Neither.”
“Oh. In that case, ‘lo, Yale.”
Myself grins wider. “I suppose you wanna talk to Dani?” he says, childish enthusiasm showing.
A brief silence, punctuated by occasional rustles of fur and of Autumn’s insect musicians chirping in the brisk mountain air.
The aspens and birches suddenly swayed in a gust of wind, riffling our sandy fur. Overlarge ears hang down past our neck, and dark, wine-grape purple eyes stare out at Milo. The discordant bubbling of a stream underlies the silence. Then:
“Hey, Milo,” I say happily.
“Hi, Dani.”
The sun comes up, and we pause to admire the dark golds and violent pinks customary of a Rocky Mountain sunrise. We then turn and chat amiably, Me sitting down while Milo stands up still, leaning against a small pillar of upright granite.


They had always told me-the humans- that Me, Myself, and I, more commonly known as the main body being Dani, and my two other ‘consciousnesses’ Tee and Yale, were just my mind speaking to itself, mostly through my mouth orifice. But it didn’t make them any less real. MPD, they’d called it. I called it Fragment Syndrome. Because I knew that my soul was torn into three parts, each harboring a separate entity.