Seth took the lead, still bathed in Sarah’s light he could see a few feet in front of the group. The trio traveled in the passages encased in a bubble of light. The maze closed in around them, suffocating smallness. In places the roof tapered low allowing them only to pass if they stooped, forcing them to walk this way for hundreds of yards. Their backs throbbed from the effort. At one point they had crawled through the smallest of passages on their knees, rubbing them raw and bloody. Continue reading “Stream of Consciousness: April 10, 2018-0”
The two humans stood there as he opened his eyes, they had been standing there all night staring at him. Adam didn’t know it though until he opened his eyes in the morning.
His eyes didn’t open all at once, they cracked slightly letting in shafts of the morning sun. Two human forms, brightly outlined human against the sun in his eyes, stood at his feet. He shot off the bed of ferns like a cat jumping for safety to a tree. What came from his mouth wasn’t language in words as such, but more guttural; fear. Continue reading “Stream of Consciousness: April 9, 2018-0”
Adam had been walking the path for hours in the afternoon sun. Hot, sweaty, dirty and tired, he welcomed evening’s approach and some well-earned rest. As he crested a ridge, the path’s fork he expected appeared just ahead down the ridge.
“What am I thinking” Adam muttered to himself. “What’s next.”
Plodding along, Adam plopped one dusty foot in front of the other with some gravity assist. He was ready to take a break. “Some hero am I.” He said. Continue reading “Stream of Consciousness: April 8, 2018-0”
The sun had been busy burning fog off in the clearing where the cottage sits, it still had some work to do. The old woman walked before him out the cottage door, and now stood at the end of the stone pathway leading from the door. “Come now” she said.
From where he was leaning on the doorpost, feeling plump from eggs, ham, potatoes and hot-sauce, he noticed the old woman’s barrel body atop two sturdy legs. She wore a simple dress of heavy linen that hung straight from her shoulders to below her knees. She clutched a heavy wool shawl she had wrapped around her body with fingers twisted in age, the knuckle’s heavy bones showing each gnarled joint, keeping her warm against the morning’s cold.
With a push of his shoulder, he moved his body of the door-post and walked down the path towards her. Continue reading “Stream of Consciousness: April 6, 2018-0”
The ocean’s horizon is swallowed by the sky in the distance, merging in silvery haze while a blue sky breaks high above. Stiff winds blow the clouds swiftly through the sky. Ocean weeds, caught in the surf among the scattered stones and shells wash in with the waves, slow at the water’s crest nearly stopping, hang loosely on the sand for a moment until the surf draws them back to the sea. “I have not smelled the ocean in years” He mutters. Eyes closed, he presses his lips tight and breathes in heavy. A thick lung full of sea air fills his nose.
The afternoon had passed. In the cottage, under the thatched roof, Author watched out the window at the fireflies rising from the ferns.
It was a moment of peace he’d not often found. The Voices had settled, at ease with the day’s work, happy the Author had found this path, this forest, even this old woman. The Voices had been with him a long time. It was they alone who, in his darkest hours, kept him alive at times.
I think it is safe to say that no one understands quantum mechanics. Do not keep saying to yourself, if you can possibly avoid it, “But how can it be like that?” because you will go “down the drain” into a blind alley from which nobody has yet escaped. ~Richard Feynman
Billy Pilgrim, the noted time and space traveler Author admires greatly, told Author that on one of his travels to a faraway and exotic place, a place where knowledge runs like water through minds of immense thinkers, (Thinkers that Author had come to admire even more that Billy) he was told how the Universe ends. As it turns out, a test of some experimental fuel the great thinkers had made went awry; when they ignited the stuff they had made, POOF!. The Universe was all gone.
Making the universe great again. Continue reading “Stream of Consciousness: April 3, 2018-0”
It’s 5:00 pm. The Sun’s light is still bright against the bricks of the house next door. He liked the way the house, like his own, set in relation to the Sun, it had a southern exposure. That meant it had Sun throughout the day in all the windows. In the shed, where he was working, the window above his workstation glowed in the afternoon light. It streamed across the floor and onto the window near the entry door. The cat liked to sit there in the warmth, but for now, she was taking up a perch behind Author on the blanket on the workbench behind him. She liked to sit there too, the Author would occasionally turn around and give her some attention. She drank it all in.
He popped a beer. A local Michigan brew. He had taken to craft-beer in the past few year. Much different from the Budweiser he drank when he was a kid. Used to drink himself blackout. But the changes he made in his life took care of that. He enjoyed beer now. Continue reading “Stream of Consciousness: April 2, 2018-1”
The room was dark when Author woke, wife laying next to him in the bed. The moon, off above the eastern horizon shone through the window in the early morning hours. The Sun had yet to cast its orange glow on the house next door, less than 15 feet from the window.
They had lived in the home for 16 years, longer than either of them had lived anywhere in their lives.
He reached out, putting his arm around his wife. This woke her. She reached for the iPhone on the night stand next to her.
“It’s 6:30. I’m late.” Continue reading “Stream of Consciousness: April 2, 2018-0”