Through a Darkened Pane (page 70)

ziddina

Cool!!!

That almost sounds like the ending of the story... What? No more story???

But it's a good ending, if that is the ending...

compound complex

Dear Lady of Alabama:

Strolling down the lane, I looked upward and there it was, my nemesis, the house in the blackened wood, peering down at me through a darkened pane ...

I thought of you - appreciative of your support and encouragement - while viewing this very real house on the hill.

(Ziddy put this all together in one thread, btw.)

Love,

CoCo

snowbird

(Ziddy put this all together in one thread, btw.)

Please, a link?

Never mind.

I found it.

Good job, Ziddy.

Pointless ... pointless and a waste of time (though it is 3 o'clock in the morning) to remain in bed when the energy expended in tossing and turning can be put to better use. Better use when I can get my mind out of the gutter and realms of depression and despair that cater so willingly to the man held captive in his nightly horizontal prison.

I am up, thrusting myself from the uselessness of too much sleep, too much recumbence, too much nothing. There is a force directing me beyond voluntary reflexes. Really now, do I want to leave the safety of home and take to the woods at this hour? Though an otherwise safe neighborhood mothers and comforts me in her protective embrace during daylight hours, there are small but noxious nocturnal beasts skulking about that care nothing about my torments of mind and soul. Nonetheless, I dress by rote, don my cap and open the door. Exit is necessary and it is now.

Drinking in the coolness and dampness of a wafting atmosphere characteristic of these delectable small hours, I instinctively go to my right. That direction takes me to my draw, that irresistible entity that has always been but choses when to be seen, making its presence felt, laying its terrors upon me ...

snowbird

Dearest Taylor,

I don't remember a time when I did NOT know the above psalm.

David, of biblical fame, composed it some thousands of years ago, and it has comforted fearful and weary souls ever since.

I hope you will find in those tender verses a measure of solace, as your Mama Sylvia has.

Please remember all you have heard and learned from me and The Ancestors who preceded us.

Keeping you always in my thoughts and prayers, I remain,

Your loving grandma.

compound complex

Thank you, Sylvia!

Toujours les Psaumes ...

CoCo

snowbird

What a you are CoCo.

compound complex

For our dear snowbird :

I watch the black oaks of my woods sway gently against an early morning expanse that is an uncharacteristic gray, but a gray illumined by a softer and gentler summer's sun.

What yesterday had been the regal, glossy green leaves of the stately sentinels are today, rather, a buffed sage foliage that I do not recall ever having viewed before. Somehow the look, the feel, the mood that overtake me right now transport me back to the foggy coast of my youth. At that particular time of my life I was not so taken with the unrelenting cool of a Pacific summer.

Now, in this land of perpetual sun whose increasing rise in temperature is, in a frightening way, relentless, this sudden and uncommon wafting of damp and fresh upon my body is healing ...

[as I drank my morning brew and peered out from my covered patio]

Through a Darkened Pane

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