Inside the mind of a psychic detective

 Norman Holmes is a psychic. He is also a detective. Combined, he is a psychic detective. One is greater than two.

Categorization is convenient, but limiting.

Why should Norman be subject to such trivial matters?

He has criminals to catch.

Birds to feed.

Cats to chase.

Mice to moose.

Lice to louse.

Dice to douse.

Water to drink. Food to eat. Clothes to wear and songs to sing.

Norman is busy and has lots of things to do, let alone be confined by the label of a psychic detective.

But he is, undeniably and unquestionably, a psychic detective.

Norman may not care whether he is one, but that is what he is.

To clarify, psychic means ESPER, magic, beyond the mundane, seeing things that are divination. Being especially adept in calculation. To hold dear that which is deer.

Detective means one who searches, one who finds, one who seeks, one who detects, one who determines, one who catches and one who vanishes.

A psychic detective, however, is a special breed entirely. They... speak with their minds. They find with the aura of the world. They are attuned to the mystery.

As a psychic detective, I, Norman Holmes, hereby declare all propaganda against psychics null and void. Only advocates shall be allowed to speak. This may seem unfair, but when have I ever been fair? I'm just an average psychic detective.

Good day, sirs, madams, gith'zerai, and a select few others.

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