Addendum:

Whileeveryeffortismadebytheprincipalauthortocreateshort,selfsustainedchapters,uniquescenarios,andaself
sustainedstory,insomecasesparticulartermsorwordsmaylosetheirmeaningimbuedinametaphysicalcontextin
tandemwithrelatedarticles.

In The fall of 1994

Seated in front of my laptop, from where I evaluated the umpteenth tailor designed condominium for a
derelict project code named Winy. In body and spirit the swallowing monster harbored an hundredand-seventh; for grouping a few crucial integrating puzzling pieces of potential owners. In concert to our
home life, from the distant floor-through light, a floating veil shades Martine's gestures in my field of
sight, and flit leaving behind, a few sprightly words, saying, I have to go out!
Complacent, Martine placed our newborn carry seat on the floor alongside my leg. In a breeze her
figure flits, impugned the Z-angle of mosaic glazed inter-leading doors. Leaving behind the entrance door
to the apartment resound sealing close. Evanescent outside, her sprightly steps descend from the landing
and by an air movement crossing the vestibule, the notion of the door swallowed in a street murmur
beneath the French doors.
Preoccupied, I continued working at the document on screen. By the prologued silence in the
apartment, I grew anxious waiting. Perceived in my head her errand echoing words, which spurs
occasional offside glimpsed at our sleeping Cupid. Minutes beginning to count, soars the tale of Martine's
erratic wits. Fallen victim with growing concern, wrist shackles tightening my hands down on the laptop
table, and ankles my feet to the floor. The collar boosted my anger, and over extending my departure
time, in a sudden move, I rose and stepped free from my anxiety over the carry seat. Bend over and
with a decisive grabbed, the warmth I fell for this little creature. Who, within the hour ensuing birth,
had a destined choice, I called her 'Sunshine.'
In a rapid step, I emerged from the townhouse entrance and in the sweeping Avenue sought the silver
gray Audi among curbs lined vehicles. I moved up the passenger side, squared up with the carry seat and
pulled the door open. Leading my baby back to front in the seat. There, threaded the safety belt through
a few integrated hooks, buckled up, and retrieved myself, to close the door. By the contour of the car
hood I moved and stepped in the driver seat. Starting the car with a glance at the sleeping little moonface, I pulled out the parking, accelerating up the row of townhouses.
Heading outbound, following the buyer's secretary directive onto Winston Churchill Avenue. Passing the
throb and shining 208 on the brick pillar of the emblematic mansion. Approaching the intersection to the
city woods, for across, lies the targeting community. Emerging by the rear of the horse race course,
catching up on the guiding milestone crossing the dedicated tramway' silver rails lying in pair. Rubber
tires dithering along the cobblestones, reconnoitering in the arterial street. Leaving wayside a reassuring
sign spelling out 'Bois Fort.' Then, lost the young woman's voice echoing referencing words, and glanced
at my wristwatch. Running late, I spared a glimpse for my Cupid, tiny and nesting in her seat. Thinking;
What am I going to do with you? At a glance identified the 184 on a corner townhouse doorway, and
veered. Clearing the contour found I steered in a close and up to a clutter of vehicles. The instant I felt
a feather stroke of luck, pulled up, parking in the free space.
Gazing my way pivoting around the car, till I unbuckled the carrier seat. Lifting my Cupid out the car
while turning away and lowering down till I held her by my hip. Closing the door behind, and moving
off, I sought round and about tracking back my way along the sidewalk. Short of turning the corner of
our earlier approach. Surprising, that such an accumulative experience stared me in the face. The Street
of 'Forest' spelled across the blighted nameplate, associative, and breaching the laws of nature,
pinpointing in the abstract back home.
Such as a flashlight activity through the dark front patch of squattered lawns, in stealth the beams of
sight through a breaking up paved path by ageing bushes for doorway targeting the house number. I
came around, making my entry into the property. Grew uneasy at facing a ghosting audience. Then,

against the wall by the Sucotrade plaque, announced myself.

A bright female voice answered through the intercom. Appeasing. Dissociating my anxiety. I said, I'm
here to meet Sayed Chalouhi. The door unlatched, and in I stepped. at loss, in an ongoing sweep of
sight, on a oval barrel shaped wall. Arousing a claustrophobic notion, I pivoted in this estranged lobby
void of an elevator. Over my shoulder, shy, an inviting daylight sweeping rapids descend in cascade from
around a blind wall. Without option than climb the meeting heavenly steps. I rose the flight of stairs
around the wall. The upper deck appeared. Clearing at eye level an unencumbered floor expanse, apart a
contrasting pair of raised heel shoes approaching. By sight surfacing up the ankles and elegant legs in
dark stockings. Leveled up in front the figure of a young executive dressed woman. She addressed me as
I stepped over the last few risers. I replicated in a joking manner, introducing myself, saying, Sorry. I
just couldnt abandon her at home.
In a subsided earlier departing anger, to the woman in a flair image of executive headquarters, in an
inviting sweep turned around. In her stride, I watched beyond her long blues locks of hair, a leading
direction toward the right of two open doors. At either extremes across a short interruptive corridor, she
opted for the executive office. Stepped in and paused squaring up to the desk, identified herself as an
efficient private secretary. She introduced me to a man tidy in his suit across the desk. He stands up.
Coming around to take her place, respectful silent she takes leave. The instant, I liberated my clasp for
meeting the hand of the Lebanese bank investor. On her apparent way out, without a qualm or question,
she had gripped the carry seat. Divided an eye rolling for a cordial handshake, chameleon-eyed, I kept
my little girl in sight while being taken away.
Chalouhi offered I be seated before he rejoined his chair, unaware he joined a poker stunt. In these
next crucial moments, I peered at the man for the slightest change of facial expressions. I said, There is
dry rot in the stables. Seemingly, I hadn't affected the man, and spread my hand on the table, bar one
card. I offered the mycosurvey report. By quotations from three firms, for an eradication treatment, I
said, The sum may be deduct from our agreed price.
Without a wink, I played the last card that left me with a sense of treason, as morals rebound when
financiers are under the impression of wielding daggers of money being hijacked from them. Anxiously I
held for last, from mention what might toppled over the deed of sale. Until, we stood up in unison,.
Shaking hands on the way out. There, my mind flips, diverted at finding the doorway to my Cupid.
Entered the ill equipped office, elegant the young secretary momentary too busy across the desk. Away
from the woman's regard, by a furniture vacant guest space, I glanced down at the little moon face fast
asleep. Lifted her by the carry seat off the floor, and headed for the stairway of my earlier arrival in
time by the number of appearances on the spot, rising a debt collector feeling, the investor banker,
kindled, that distant intuitive notion, suscitating with every visit a proximity money laundering mill.

Bearing the role of a scapegoat

From a far silent daylight shadowing furniture the floor-through apartment, rises Martine in a recurrent
breeze leaving the carrier seat on the floor along my laptop table. Her sprightly movements resounding
through the vestibule and out in the street, to the Panda, by her driving style whizzing away.
In a reigning silence, recollecting that I nodded; OK! Instinctive in an anxious weather change, my
biological clock poked a finger pressure, as I cropped for a solution warning imminent my critical
departure. By my upheld step, in my Cupid asleep, I sought her mother's words gone sailing. The absence
of which are niggling in mind, when hurried, my hand came over twisting my body, swiped the grip
carrier seat as I raised off my chair. In a rush the apartment door closed behind. Out in the street, I
pulled the door, while fetching by sight amongst overnight vehicles the Audi. Through long strides,
foreseeing on improvising, I approached by the swing of the carry seat and opened the door to the
interior. In a sweep of movements, I buckled up my Cupid in the passenger seat, and retrieved. Moved
off closing the door, my figure in an apparent street dance, leaning across the wing and over the hood
contours and with a final step swirl behind the opening driver's door. I stepped inside, seated, turned the
ignition and pulled off in a wide U-turn facing down the avenue heading toward downtown.
Off Rochefort Square, I swerved and in pursuit of the wayside dedicated tramway entered by the
Aquarius fountain the community gateway. Circled and engaged the artery that descend the shallow
valley to rise up to the medieval Halle gate. There, by the emblematic stone tower, debuts in style The
Avenue, shying in the depths of the ancient moat the Little Beltway traffic flow. With a birth's eye view

across the heart of the medieval city. Driving through rows of brick buckled townhouses bending over
stifling light from the depth of the streets. I steered the Audi in a backstreet from the bustling
downtown, to an uprooted townhouses, and rising straight from the sidewalk an impressive white
intimidating sleek cladding, In every quarter the finishing stages of construction, brining in the limelight
the multinational group's expending force.
Short of the rejuvenating crossroads, I veered to a halt up to a barrier. The engine idling, my window
down by the standing intercom terminal, where I announced myself. Then, after a brief silence, the boom
lifted, I glanced at my Cupid, and moved on down the sloping ramp underground. In a forest of concrete
columns and overhead beams, I circled searching around. At the ease of reading the 'visitor' sign, I
sensed a premonitory stroke luck. A puzzle piece complete an impression, ample to fit, swerved and
pulled in the parking space.
Now feeling at destiny, I stepped out, sloughing stress coming around the Audi. Bending by the open
door fetching from the passenger seat my sleeping Cupid. Straightening up, a beacon of sight, my eye
beams doubtful skimming in circle over rooftops searching the directive of a doorway. The figure of a
man, instructive in deed, as he steps through a darkening depth of a door leaf from the shady pair on
the wall.
In the man's wake, I entered a blank lobby void of elevator doors. Hesitant followed guiding walls
around the corner. Along a faint pitched floor, I reconciled with an architectural design. Gaining
reassurance along the way, sparing a glance at my Cupid's sleeping moon face, annihilating in mind
anticipating our reception. I attuned thoughtfully to the wafts of fresh painted odors, heading through an
efflorescent white contour light, tunneling wide years in the aftermath emerged the sign that we
were heading in our particular way toward a new beginning in life.
We emerged at street level, directed onto an immense reflective shadowy floor. Brought my eyes down
from sweeping across the atrium in the optic of a dome, to the letters up front the rear wall, reading 'AG
Insurance Group' and lay sight on the middle of a triplet of receptionists. Advancing to gain the adverse
crescent shaped counter. Presenting myself knightly to the woman, who such as Martine agile and
speaking into telephonic devices to a remote person. The receptionist returned a flowing attention, saying,
[French] Will you wait. Someone will come and fetch you?
At the counter a delivery man accost the far left receptionist, as I stalked by sight the few individuals
in a habitual gait crossing the hall. From the elevator lobby activity, and distinguishing himself by long
strides through a dark suit approach. Allusive, fetching at the center point a visitor. He steps up, and
after an introductory name quest, said, Will you follow me? The man coils off, and gains a few
strides, heading a secure middle place among the elevators. Squaring up opposing his earlier appearance,
stretching out an arm, pointing a finger, and retrieving. I closed in, and stepped right inside the cabin.
Standing silent and steady, without a hint of levitation speed. I emerged without reference to the
building, facing a reception of white collar and tie figures in dark suits congregated where ends the
elevator lobby.
As the winning party, oversight to the recent weeks, emerging the justice palace from the gears of the
supreme court with their corporate lawyers. I paid respect, saying, I found myself with my daughter
alone at home. Odd as a native village of gathered men peering down at my Cupid. I found myself
squinting at a far movement from a series of a sentinel of doors up the corridor. A man in his approach,
emblematic on the team of past harsh negotiators, Breard stepped up mingling in the midst of a floor of
men, wide eyed gleaming in admiration protective over the last of the progenitive species
inadvertently, Breard relieved me from the carry seat, and tracked his way back.
A stone-faced man, itchy, kept a few paces back isolated from colleagues, dropped a subtle hand wave
with an inviting side step. Leading me by sight through the hinged back leaf of the double doors. In the
privacy around the corner ahead of the team lagging in the adjacent hallway of converging corridors. in
front of ghostly peering vacant chairs huddling around an elaborate elongated oval conference table, the
scale of justice tipped .
Weighing, my absent attorney striving for my project a financial retribution. Moral, at the other arm of
the scale As parent I hold the umbrella of a shield over those deprived to fend for themselves. Fierce
are the thunderstorm of malicious minds lashing envy and jealousy at reaching me punitively. I wasn't
quite sure individual telepathic hatred dissolved by the nature of a non physical corporation. Unwilling to

temp the chance, my children bear fatal mishaps. In a few words I said to the stone-faced man,
[French] I have a buyer have we got a deal?
In flight from the stone-faced man, assured in recuperating our investment, I sloughed off, stepping
outside, a two-years energy withering project and a shattered morale. Around the corner, I glanced up
the corridor, by the ghostly male, of Breard earlier at the far door, a young woman emerged carrying the
white newborn seat. Returned to me, as I looked at my Cupid, meek as her sleeps, innocent of her
transcendent-volition, that envisaged I regained lost support for my endeavors. I turned away, though I
treaded in a corporate mine field, in a few strides cleared my way from the men to the lobby, and
squared up to the elevator door. Standing by, an inadvertent lost glance over my shoulder, to lay sight
on the men in dark suits, the regard of an extra-terrestrial experience on their faces. Returning sight after
the call of a door ping. I moved on inside the cabin, as the closing door sealing me off, I grew
contemplating the legendary role of mothers.

Vision is a passenger-scientific tool of the mind, which has kept me intrigued since infancy, over
half a century in due course, with date stamps and records, compelled by psychoanalytic
odysseys reserved for exploration by the deepest halls of my mind.
Here are some links for further in-depth reading, the core of a detailed work: The Code:
Horizon Of Infinity
Video in conjunction with my work: YouTube 2:2 Video The Code: Horizon of Infinity
Books available from the publisher: http://sbprabooks.com/ivanbroes/
Book available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Code-Infinity-Ivan-Broes/dp/1628574666
Why not read 47 pages on: Google Books
View the pictures in a sequence of evolution: Flickr