Timka dreamt, but knew not. Jostling streets and endless corridors behind, now alpine forest neared green mountain horizon under resplendent sun. Then spirit collapsed and melted through gravity into puddle of inert protoplasm on forest floor.

Struggling gradually back to form and sense, Timka observed himself somehow prone, arms pinned under, helpless to move any muscle anywhere. Animal within awakened on forest floor enraged, struggling mightily against confinement (as life will), finally successfully jerking physical arms violently: fully waking him. Garden-variety sleep paralysis wakes mind in real world, powerless to move; Timka's ingenious twist escaped only by first waking body somehow, while mind still dreamt.

And he'd so wanted to climb in those mountains!

Hailing from no storied ancient Slugherd lineage, Timka shone ignorance on theoretical and practical slugherdy alike. Seated comfortably one evening at keyboard pretending to write, tip of bare big toe's agitation betrayed bold and athletic slug, apparently traversed considerable carpet distance (and whence unknown) merely to kiss Timka's toe. It being summertime, beast learned to ride cardstock and summarily relocated to bushes out back where grass clippings gathered.

Two weeks later, precisely same scenario passed: from sudden toetip kiss to finished real estate deal. Earlier interloper's slimetrail doubtless guided new one's curiosity; but just how many slugs, exactly, laired nearby, Timka wondered. And why never see any, but first they touch him?

Come early winter, long slug-free stretch ended with one tentatively exploring kitchen floor. Banishment to frozen Nature now meant certain death, so Timka fretted carefully to watch every step hence. Time to abolish Ignorance!

Slugherdy 101 confidently declared preference for lettuce over any other delicacy. Already eating big salads every evening unless fasting, Timka uniquely personified qualification to establish slug soup kitchen. Tactically and strategically well-chosen no-traffic location next to apparent slug hostel under refrigerator beckoned. A few carefully-selected leavelets featuring favorite bits daily disincentivized foolhardy wandering.

Timka Slugherd's spirit enlarged as Gastropod Gazette ads eventually brought multiple diners to table nightly. Presenting every appearance of family group in various sizes, hides waxed strong and shone health through slime protecting them. Seemingly impervious vulnerable nakedness in a world where vertebrate and invertebrate alike gladly gobbled, Timka's slugs focused delicate tentacles on urgent tasks: breathing and processing vegetable matter into consciously-directable energy.

Timka learned much in herd's company. First, sudden unbidden experience showed humble lettuce he'd chewed decades mindlessly in fact broadcast vast spectrums of infinitely subtle flavors, indescribably delicious and powerful. Tinctures of olive oil and lemon juice elevated human experience, of course; but slugs definitely forged similar path.

Thornier realization pricked Timka's heart, as well: not merely armless, but legless wriggling flat-stomached advance foreshadowed his own great nightmare. Paralyzed prone in vast dreamscape, unwitting how awaken either into - or out from - dream. For slugs, this condition seemed grand life arc; but their universal consciousness' equal share must manage its own dreamstates, Timka reasoned.

From basic, spacious hydrogen atom to seething-swirled human brain, all matter's merely insanely efficient and durable battery storage: nothing else. Energy seeded with patient Divine Observation blended churning through gravity and fusion across billions of years: forging complexity, gathering calm backwater islets where forces vibrate in balance. Consciousness eventually mastered complexity there, bringing forth life on this still only-gradually cooling, magma-cored cinderlet behind a 14-billion-year old Mystery.

Oh, the life, though! writhing, struggled against every impediment and bond (as it will). Consciousness rode raging beast, gradually expanding awareness-scope and mastery over matter: thus, energy. Whether consciously or otherwise, mastering, transforming and spending that energy constitutes life in matter; spend wisely.

Hear praise, then, ye slugs!

Bold and naked, no ponderous cowering cousin-snail shell shields you from combat or death. When you procreate, you perfectly balance equality: each contributing sperm to the other, and each bearing its own thus inseminated eggs. Would that hard-shelled humans learned God's living gender role and identity lessons here: Mothers and Fathers are One! Life lives on spectrums; and shells become ancient only by uninterrupted expansion and growth.

But Life becomes ancient only through Love.