by Tomas
 The Morning Dew
     As I was walking in the green grass, looking down and dreaming. The morning was wet with dew. I would kick my foot along, skip a little in my mind. I would step forward watching the dew fly from my wet feet. I'm  dreaming of the old days and the present dreamers of new thoughts. I ‘m walking with my head down, my mind is racing. I keep looking at the grass and I see wet footprints out before me. I follow along.  Can I / If I jumped into those footprints, would our soles meet? I smile at the play on words. Of course everyone says no way. What do we call the departed space of someone who has been there? Is there something about someone who is there, say a halo? An aura? A soul? The sun and the moon have an aura. I am still following the steps of someone alive.  Their trace is in the dew. As I lazily step into those footprints, I think of common bonds, shared souls, maybe someone I know. Into the darkness of shade my path goes, as my eyes adjust to a new light, a new form takes shape. I'm still looking down.  I see military combat boots, shiny and black. Above the boots I see light grey nylon slacks tied at the waist with a pristine white cord. Ugh! I look in awe! I step back, a wave of shock powers my body. I see greasy black hair above the pants, above that, a rainbow of colors sweeps up, starting out with purple, layers of colors keep coming until at last I see the white yellow face of a man with white hair. I step back again, repulsed. Slowly I calm down, my heart is beating at my wrists, I look at my wrists, soothing my mind.........With courage I look up again......... Time settles the moment with peace.............."What are you?" I ask. "A rainbow," he replies. I form new words in my mind, "Have I offended you?" I ask. "Who hasn't, you are not the first?"
 We talk, we walk in the morning dew.

 Two Brothers

Two brothers lived in the Garden of Eden. They were both born innocent. They both acquired a wealth of knowledge. Being brothers they went off in different directions. Cain was obsessed with neatness and straight lines. Abel was opposite never wanted to hurt a thing, he considered all desires blasphemy.
As we enter their lives, Cain is out mowing the lawn, stopping from time to time to measure the grass with his ruler he keeps on his tool belt, as you would imagine the Garden was in perfect form, shapes precise and lovely. Abel stood in his spot afraid to walk on the grass, he would not dare hurt green life no matter what. He would only eat grain, and then he would cry in vain knowing that he had taken life. His life was pure, full of painful steps. His brother came by and trimmed the hedge to specs., a warm smile on his face. Abel cried, as he saw blades of green life fly by through the air.
 Laurel would come by daily. Her task was always trying to counsel them, wanting them to give (each other) some grace, try to understand the balance of life. Do a little compromising. They said, "Laurel your always wanting this, that."  She loved the brothers, not wanting to hurt their feelings.
Contrasting life styles, two extremes, each of these lives are not about to hurt anyone, but they take life's two extremes. One would say that the oil will drain back into the earth from where  it came, the other would contain the oil and not use anything that would layer the earth with filth. Laurel would refine the oil and use it again.
Compromise and discuss.


 Sam &Kathy
by Tomas
     Sam was dressed in denim coveralls that were too short for his muscular frame, you could see his white sox above his brown boots. His orange shirt was stained with sweat and grease.
 As he walked along the ridge, he couldn't keep from marveling at the beauty before him. The trees were always a sight to see, lush green with a heavy foliage, ferns covering the ground, though most of the times that he was here, he was preoccupied with the job at hand. He  followed the path looking for the days jobs. He found four new trees that were marked. He left them behind.
 He traveled deep into the woods and found one of the older marked trees. He unpacked his backpack, laying the tools needed for the day on a stump nearby. He started his saw, the loud whine traveling through the woods. The days activities had begun, the wild life hearing his sound, moved off to a safer distance.
     Adjusting his body and the saw to the proper height, he moved in toward the tree. As his saw cut into the tree it hit something cold and steel, jerking and bucking the saw away from the tree and toward his body. As the saw came out of the tree the chain broke throwing pieces of steel in all directions. Something hit his cheek and shoulder sending pain throughout his body. He threw the saw away from his body instinctively. He dropped  to his knees. "Dam" he said out loud. He knew he was hurt. He thought about the time he was going to lose at work. "Hell"  He thought about the overtime money. Crap!
     He slumped to the ground, the saw whining in the background. He thought a young women appeared out of nowhere. He was not sure.
     He was in shock, his body still, his eyes looking off, unaware of the pain. His brain was stunned.
 He was on his feet moving, passing green foliage, brown dirt, bark and ferns. He was moving on the trail toward his truck.
     He thought he saw his truck in the distance, he said there's my truck, but no sound was heard by anyone.
     He awoke alone in a hospital bed, his arm and shoulder wrapped in bandages, his head sore.
 His boss's insurance took care of his hospital bills for him. John, his boss came by and said that he would send Rabbit out to take care of the tree. Sam said no need he would take care of that tree himself. John said no hurry on that tree.
     His stay in the hospital had been wonderful, more like vacation days, the only way he would ever stop working. The days had healed the wounds and also had eased the soreness of his working muscles. Refreshed he was eager to be back in the woods. He would have to buy a new saw, something he had been wanting to do anyway, he had been thumbing through the catalogs for months now.


     Kathy was rather tall, braided brown hair, her tanned skin shinning with oil. She wore cut blue jean shorts, a green plaid shirt and a green hat with visor. Her moves were powered by limbs with little effort, a graceful cat comes to mind.
     As she sat at her campsite, exhausted by the her morning effort, she could not keep from marveling at the wonder and colors before her, the distant trees look blue-green and smokie. Her instincts had been right, this location had everything that was needed for the task at hand. She had the proper mind set, people would understand what she was about to do. She would leave a trail, something that the world would follow. Her mind wandered as it followed the beauty of the area. Her great concern was that no one would take care of the earth, yes everyone said they would, but as she knew no one ever did anything about it. Well she knew what to do. She would devote her life to saving the earth.
     She heard the movement, she flattened herself into a prone position. Keeping herself still. She heard the roar of the engine, she felt the vibrations at her core, almost a acute vibration, annoying her teeth, it sent shivers to her spine.
     She heard the noise, half human and half machine. It wasn't normal. She knew something was wrong, she knew someone needed help. She left her camp and headed for the noise.
     When she arrived he was slumped over, blood everywhere. She looked at him and stood still, her mind was racing. She moved toward him. She tore her blouse, using it as a blotter, sizing up the situation. She wrapped the wounds as best she could.
     She lifted him off the ground and walked him toward the trail. The trail led to the road, where she knew he had a car or truck. She was tired and hot, her body wet with sweat, her eyes found a truck off in the distance, he nodded. She put him in the passenger seat. She looked at the steering wheel, a single key was there. She adjusting her body and started the ignition. The truck roared to life. She turned the truck back toward the main highway, spinning around on the loose red dirt. As soon as she reached the highway, she made a hard left and headed toward town, which was as least ten miles away.
     Feeling uneasy for just dropping him off. She took a trip home, giving herself time to think, wondering if she was the cause of his injury. She never did anything to cause him any harm, was one of her friends responsible, she had no idea or clue. She spent a week at home with her parents. Her week at home adjusted her attitude, removing all the pain, shame and doubt from the ordeal, she should have stayed.
     Satisfied that she could resume her task, she went back about it eagerly. Camp became a comfortable thing, each day became a fulfillment. Soon the world would understand. Most of the working noises were off in the distance. The woods around her camp would feel no more pain.
 Why she came back to the same campsite she did not know, she guessed it was just easier. Moving her site would be quite a chore. But now the element of danger was really real. If she spoke up now, they would find the mystery camp in the woods. They would also move her, she knew they could.
 The campsite was well hidden, the foliage was very heavy.

     He came back to work, he worked his way back cautiously, cutting timber on the north ridge. His third day back he worked his way back to the tree that had caused the accident. He examined the tree where he had broken his chain. He saw something shining two inches into the tree. "Damn", he muttered. What in the hell is going on?
     She saw and heard him. Maybe she should say some thing. If I do then the trouble will start.
 He could sense movement or he just heard a noise,  his body instinctively was put on alert.
 Things were getting out of hand, she felt an emotional turmoil inside her body. It was time to speak up.
     He looked around, waited. Nothing. Something told him to put off cutting this tree.
 She cleared her throat. She knew he heard.
     He looked around, the thick ground cover muffling the sound he heard. Something is not right. It is too quiet. Something was out there in the woods, he felt like a ten year walking out of a movie theater, scared of the unknown. He knew that grown men do not let their hearts chill.
His hair was on end. He left, not wanting to cut this tree, maybe knowing what would happen.
     She covered her mouth, the sweat felt cold and uncomfortable. Her stomach was turning. She knew she had to stand her ground. She lay still and waited, she was screaming inside for help.
Help arrived latter in sleep, she awoke while the orange and blue sky was fading on the horizon.
     The beauty around them both was still there, they both were caught up in their own thoughts. They were lost in fear, knowing they had to face the beast. Pride was going to hurt them. Each had a job to do. Was the task at hand worth the trouble?
 He was paid to do his job, if he did not do it , some one else would.
 Was pride the beast that was going to hurt them, I think so.
Newspaper clippings......
WILDERNESS, OR. ap. A young student from
Old Universe College fell more than fifty feet
from atop a tree house in a pine grove near here.
said Sheriff Johnston. Hospital spokesperson
Janet Rison said it was a miracle she survived with
just bruises.
 It seems that Kathy Ryon had been in
the tree house more than two weeks undetected.
Logger Sam Hock was unaware that anyone was
around the tree. He said that he had a premonition
,but did not know about what. He was shocked
when he heard a yell when he hollered "Timber".
"If it hadn't been for the other trees to break her
fall, she would have died", he said.

PORTLAND, OR. ap. Mr. &Ms. Ronald J.
 Ryon of Ceder Roads, Or. announce the
 marriage of their daughter Marilyn Kathryn
 Ryon a recent Graduate of Old Universe
 College with a degree in social science.
The groom  Samuel Adams Hock is the son of
 Franklyn D. &Margie Hock of  Wilderness, OR.
He is employed at Wilderness Timbers.
The Rev. Rabbit I. Quick performed the service
at Northern Methodist Apocalypse Church.
Friends of the World were also in
Fictional Bits

The child was holding a blue plastic jar. In his right hand he held a magic wand. With a sweep of his magic wand the air was filled with spheres. The quivering spheres were the colors of clear jello rainbows. They road the currents of air like a child riding a stick horse. The globes were only in existence for a few short moments. Like black stars, the drops of water around the sphere were pulled together and then dropped to the ground in a sprinkle.
In order to prove that the spheres do implode, a grant will have to be granted. I'll need a least two high speed cameras and at least two years of research. This cost should be around 300 thousand dollars.
The color is black, the silence is scary. The moon sits like a pumpkin in the night sky.
Two beacons of light dart about like a wolf spider.
Two eyes/two beacons of light. Below this presence, a red light and green light dot area below the beacons. Eight amber lights are spaced like legs of a spider. Like a craft from space this ominous presence stands firm looking about. It is slowly moving in my direction, taking up space as it moves forward. I hear a whine, a beating, a rhythm. I see  someone moving my way. I say hello how is your day. They say fine thanks. How much farther they ask? Two hundred feet more. Ok.

Messages in a bottle
Unforeseen images come out of the minds of men. Moving objects descend
on mother earth. Sometimes they are only in our imagination,
thoughtful and provocative. Messages in a bottle are always fun to
read, but how do they arrive.
When I awoke my feet were in the stirrups. I was sitting in a saddle.
My space suit was white and bright to my eyes. The reins were still in
my hands. As I looked out the porthole the stars were flying by in a
blur. I realized what I had to do. I yanked back on the reins, pushing
my legs down into the stirrups. I could feel my spacecraft shudder as
I put on the brakes. I used all of my strength pulling the reins back.
I plopped into the ocean, bouncing like a bottle and a cork. Our
message in a bottle has landed/arrived.
Allison was a great fan of"The Police". I listened to their music and was taken away to a wonderful place with good emotions. I wrote this with them in mind.


This world that we live in now is as tough as the year Jan. 01, 0001.
Our world protects us from climate and wild beast.
The rouges that wander are constantly chased by civil servants.
Some wild beasts are close by but run at the sight of man.
Some wild beasts are close by but do not run at the sight of man.

 He was about 12 when a sensing, a buzz, a tingle traveled across his forehead. He opened his eyes and looked about. Then to the mirror to see what had traveled across his forehead. He saw nothing and rubbed his forehead. He walked to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, grabbed the milk container and walked over to the counter. Looking up at the cabinet, he opened the cabinet door and removed a glass. After pouring himself a glass of milk, he moved back to the refrigerator and replaced the milk. He drank his milk and moved into the living room, where he watched a test pattern for about ten minutes. Feeling sleepy he headed back to bed.

 Halloween night we were out steeling eggs from a farmers barn across town. The guys and I knew the place, we had been there last year. We parked the old sedan, leaving Danny with the keys. We said when we come back out with the eggs, drive forward we'll catch you as you go by.
 As we were sneaking out of the barn, we saw the light go on in the main house. Danny also saw the light go on. Were headed for the chain link gate, when we hear "Stop or I'll shoot." We ran carrying the egg crates with us through the link gate. Danny was going down the street 100' ahead of us. Were running, chasing Danny, three of us with three crates of eggs, running down the road, Danny running ahead of us in the sedan. I thought I felt the noise of gunfire. Three young men running in fear are faster than sound.
 Once we were in the old sedan bouncing down the road, we could hear the shocks hitting metal. Laughing and bouncing, our hearts beating in our heads. After we all had settled down, we headed for downtown, which was about ten miles away. As we sat and moved along the highway I felt a tingle between my eyes. Thinking of sweat I rubbed my forehead. I said something about feeling something above my eyes. They all started poking my head and started humming the twilight Zonkers theme. Doda dodo doda dodo.
Cyclops  pluralCyclopesMythology &Folklore One-eyed giants in CLASSICAL MYTHOLOGY. One Cyclops imprisoned ODYSSEUS and his men during their voyage back to GREECE after the TROJAN WAR. Odysseus managed to trick the Cyclops and put out his eye. Odysseus and his men were then able to escape.
Up on sagebrush hill old "doc" Savage lost forty layers and his life, how this happened is still a mystery.
The sparkling speckled egg lay hidden in the solution of vinegar where it was clear to one eye.
The marks of wax were red and gold, the colors floating on the water. Why was the egg laying in the water? Mysteries sometimes are never answered.
Off  to war at eighteen, eager to learn, go to the edge. A place to grasp the awareness, the keen sense of war. The discipline harsh and to the point. The sun pounding a place to see in my head.
I watch the man die, no pleasure for sure.  I see a lot clearer, it is as if I have a third eye at my fore head, everything is so intense, the keen sense of war.
Laire Steeple lost his life, torn apart in the training swamp, the large creatures there in the swamp were blamed. The rain fell off the body into the quite pool.
After the war I roamed about trying to fix my life. I took odd jobs, looking for the meaning of my existence. I think many a man did the same thing after the Amazing Red War. I would take a job here and work maybe a week and leave in disgust, wondering why anyone would ever work like a dog for a few pennies. I think this process is just growing up.
 I had heard that many people were heading for the camps in Northern California. A new peaceful movement against the violence of war was taking shape.
 I was wandering from job to job bringing me closer and closer the anti-war people. I could not understand their meaning. Wars were fought for territory, peace came after the violence.
As I walked past the door the sign read "The Four Blind Scientist". It was dark out and a loud pounding rhythm was coming from this building. I open the door. The faint smell of vinegar seeped a trail of smoke past me, exciting the door. The room was dark, colored light of different colors poked at the darkness in time with the pounding rhythm. Four shadows sat at square table, their hand flat against the table. The table was moving, its black top pulsing. The four shadows were wearing headgear, something out of a "B movie" headgear. Everyone seemed to be plugged into the table. A heavy electrical cord ran from the table to a pulsing wall of equipment. Everyone was speaking at once, their hands feeling and moving across the pulsing table. As I neared the table I noticed hundreds of braille dots pulsing up from the flat surface, flat hands grasping at the movement. A black light sign over the table said  "Computer Lab". White lab coats that glowed and Hollywood Shades seemed to be the uniform of the day.
A women looking like a gypsy was found slain in a nearby park. Her body was mauled was what the papers said.
The people in these camps are really nice. They welcome you with open arms. There seems to be a genuine care given off at these camps. The word welcome has a new meaning to me. I move about helping these folks. There seems no end in the chores that you can do.
Someone said to Lou, "Turn these people back, they are overcrowding us, tell them they are not wanted, they are not one of us." Lou smiled, not wanting to even hurt the speaker of these words.
"I can not turn them away."
I look out at the horizon, our magical line in the distance. No matter what distance we travel we cannot seem to reach our horizon. Can someone explain this? Perhaps the name horizon is the name for those last sentences?
Sometimes I place my finger to my forehead and imagine a third eye above my forehead. Sometimes I feel a sense and feeling that something is trying to push itself out into the open, someplace where it can see the future and the past at will.
In my mind I see candy apple paint on our neighbors home. Can you imagine walking down a street with homes painted metallic orange/rustic, pearl, metallic green and canary yellow?  I think maybe that will be the next stage in this social meeting of bodies. Earol Shabby homes painted for one hundred bucks.
The grassy areas were flat, emerald green in color sometimes blue in waves of wind. The areas reminded me of golf courses back home. Each area was occupied with beings and black objects. The objects were black and clear. Each sat six inches above the grass, all black and elegant. They were all three foot cubes. People sat and looked at their reflections in the black walls of these cubes. I was very eager to know just what these beings saw in these screens? What caused these people to communicate with the black boxes?
On closer inspection some of these beings had dark gray smudges on their foreheads.
Was I seeing a ceremony of some kind? An invitation to meditate with god? So strange a site. A vast area of blue/green/black, so stately.
I knew in my heart that, I would have to ask someone what was going on. I had never seen anything like this. I walked over to one of the areas. I sat on the grass. A feeling of comfort overwhelmed me, saturated my mind with pleasant memory. I sat happy, not understanding , but enjoying my state of being. From out of nowhere came this sound,
"You have mail."
A new emotion is sweeping thru my body and mind. A new awareness of good healthy living seeps into my mind. The food these people are eating is free of pollutants. I'm becoming a healthy human. They speak in good clear language that I understand. No hints or undertones of deception. No clique forming in the corner. No one whispering over my shoulder, their hand pointing to the trees.
I rub the space between my eyes.

Jan. 01, 2001
State of California
Governor’s Mansion
2 a.m.
"Sir, sorry to wake you at this time."  "What is it?  Another brownout?"
"No sir, we have no communications with Washington D.C., no telephone, no radio, no satellite"  "What other choices do we have?" " We're looking into it sir."
" Give me an answer as soon as you can." "Do we have any coffee?"
2:15 a.m.
"Sir?" "Yes?"  " There is no communications with anyone outside our borders?" "What!!!"
"Uh?"  "Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on around here?!?!"
3 a.m.
Conference room:
Thirteen men that are either sitting or standing, each has a cell phone to their ear, they are communicating with other parts of the state. Each was receiving the same news. There was good communication in the state, but no answers out of the state.
4 a.m.
"Sir we have communications with some people in Lake Tahoe and Truckee and they have gone into Nevada and found it without a soul. They say that they find homes, cars and trucks empty. There is not a person or dog to be seen, some wild animals are moving about, but no sign of people. Everything seems to work fine over there. There are just no folks about anywhere!
The surprising thing is that there is no traffic on the roads. Cars are parked in lots but no moving vehicles are seen on the roads.
Jan. 01, 2001
Western Kentucky
5 a.m.
Ed got up out bed, started the coffee and took a shower and shaved. He sat at the kitchen table and drank a cup of coffee, looked out the window at the new day and ate some toast, poured some orange juice and drank it down.
After a spell he went out to his truck and fired her up. It was rather pleasant for January and he knew that later on, the frost would get his blossoms on that old apple tree out back. It was going to be sixty today and he hoped the fish would bite. It was very warm for this time of year, pleasant, but unsettling.
Ed was in his early forties and in good health. Today he was going fishing, he knew it was rather late to go out on the river, but he enjoyed being out on the boat and casting his line around the tall trees that were halfway under the water.
6 a.m.
The sun was coming up as he left his home. He traveled toward the Tennessee River Bridge. As he crossed the bridge he noticed a sunken barge (flat) in one of the fleeting areas below the bridge. The boom of a crane was sticking up out of the water as the river currant swirled around it. He moved through town toward the steel Brookport Bridge that crossed the Ohio River into Illinois. There was not much traffic on this holiday; the streets were quiet in the early morning light.
His truck and trailer rattled as he slowed to go into Brookport, a sleepy little town on the edge of the Ohio in Illinois. Nothing was moving, too early to be up on this holiday. He turned toward Bay City. The boat ramp was about 20 miles up the road.
He noticed deer grazing alone the edge of the roadway in the tan fields; they looked up as he passed. Dark trees, without leaves were silhouetted in the morning sky.
He looked into his rear view mirror at his boat. It was still there; the aluminum sparkled in the morning light. This was his third boat and his favorite. It was simple to handle on large or small lakes. He was almost to the boat ramp; he had traveled down this road many a time.
8 a.m.
He was out on the river moving toward the dam in his light green Jon boat. He waved at a deck crew that were working on the dark brown barges of black coal. A towboat was pushing them down river toward the large lock and it huge dam. He turned into a bayou on the Right Bank.
8:15 a.m.
He trolled around very slowly, as he did he'd caste a jig next to a tree. He continued this way until he felt a nibble, then he would reel in a white or a black crappie or whatever else would bite his jig.
11 a.m.
He put the cleaned fish into a cooler, he felt good, and the catch was a good, about ten slabbers at about 3/4 of a pound apiece. He climbed into his truck, then thought to check his boat and trailer again. He walked around his trailer and boat making sure it was secure. He climbed into truck again feeling much better about him self.
11:25 a.m.
He was nearing Brookport when a Kentucky Highway Patrol Woman signaled him to pull over. He thought that rather odd. He pulled over and reached into his hip pocket and pulled out his wallet and I.D.
She asked, "Sir may I asked you for some I.D?"  He handed her his wallet and she examined his I.D. She walked around and looked at his license plate and walked back over and gave him back his I.D. "Sir how long have you been in Illinois?" He said he had come over about six or seven. She said to wait a minute and she went back and talked over her radio. When she came back she said thank you and left. He thought to him self, "What was that all about?" He drove back over the bridge into Kentucky and back home.
Jan 01, 2001
This was the first time that he was not able to pick up the Rose Bowl game. He had called his brother and Mac said it was the same all over town. Nobody got any of the games. He tried calling the Satellite Company but the line was blank with no signal. "Crap! I ain't gonna pay no bill if I don't get any service!"
He was so mad that he had walked down the country lane to the local store. Jed said that the whole county was in an uproar over the telephone lines. Abe said that he called his brother Mac, but did you try calling out of state? Yeah, I tried calling the Satellite Company and there was no reply? It's like that all over the county; I don't know what the world is coming too?
January 02, 2001,
Hartsfield Atlanta International Airport:
He was wondering where the planes went? The next step would be to send a military team into the unknown space and take some pictures and land wherever they could.
Five planes would be sent to these states, Florida, Alabama, Tennessee, South Carolina and North Carolina. A team of experts would man each plane.
Each plane was sent out and monitored. The communications were clear and concise. Radar signals were clear. The first plane landed in Tallahassee and reported that they saw no human beings. Animals were seen moving about, but no humans were seen. There seemed no sign of any kind of pollution to monitor or any dangerous mixtures in the air. Buildings were intact and the communication and electricity were out only because of the twenty-four hours of neglect.
The planes to the other states basically reported the same thing. There were signs of life to be seen, but no humans were about. All crews reported no ill affects other than normal behavior patterns.
Teams of engineers and laborers were sent to these states to get things moving again.

January 03, 2001,
West Virginia:
They had called him Crazy Carl for such a long, long time. He wore a black top hat with a feather in it. He had left the world behind in 67. He knew this day would come. The country was going to hell. The aliens had taken over the world. He didn’t care as he chopped his wood and carried it to his cabin. The abductors had seized the world. He had told them so and they didn’t believe. They were not believers. Glory to God, Halleluiah!

January 03, 2001,
Arlington, Virginia
They continued to march and guard the cemetery. They knew that discipline would rule out the day. Orders were kept and order was maintained. The unit was small but well disciplined. The “Spit and Polish” attitude is what kept them together. Chaos was not a word in their vocabulary.
Orders were orders.

January 04, 2001
State of California
Governor’s Mansion
He pretty well knew that the only human beings that he would find would be the ones he sent out to the other states. He was very sure that no life, as he knew it was possible. He also knew that he would have to move slowly. He only had so many people in California.
Most of the power stations were manned in and around the states surrounding California.
It was pretty definite; he would have to move slowly to populate the states. Well a least there was plenty of room, overcrowding was not a factor any more.
He also knew that people would wander off into the other states. The local news had plenty of stories to tell about the other states. Some of the stories were speculation and some were fact.
He had chuckled when he had read some of the stories; they were rather amusing.
He was being bombarded with a constant flow of information. He told himself to live one day at a time.

Jan. 04, 2001
Western Kentucky
Ed was worried about his brother in Nevada. Charles and Linda had been out there for the last three years. They had always wanted Ed and Marge to move out that way. Ed always refused for some reason or another. Now he was worried; the news from Fort Campbell said that no humans were found in any of the surrounding states including California,  Texas and Nevada. Kentucky had plenty of power to sustain life in the state. Although the Governor had sent a team of scientist to Texas to make sure that Kentucky had plenty of natural gas.
Ed figured that maybe some brain in Washington had blown a smart bomb off somewhere out there. Whatever, local T.V. was working out ok. He still had his job in the mines. Some stuff was hard to get but everybody around these parts seemed to manage all right.

January 10, 2001
A word that has meaning that we understand.
Being is an adventure. We read all the tales that are told. Some tales are never told. Each of us has reached deep inside and found a way to endure another day. Most of the time everything is swell. But then again there are those days that we must endure.

Main Entry: en·dure
Pronunciation: in-'dur, -'dyur, en-
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): en·dured; en·dur·ing
Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French endurer, from (assumed) Vulgar Latin indurare, from Latin, to harden, from in- + durare to harden, endure -- more at DURING
Date: 14th century
transitive senses
1 : to undergo (as a hardship) especially without giving in : SUFFER
2 : to regard with acceptance or tolerance <could not endure noisy children>
intransitive senses
1 : to continue in the same state : LAST
2 : to remain firm under suffering or misfortune without yielding
synonym see BEAR, CONTINUE

Where does the story begin and where is the reality. Where are the folks that were on the other side of the borders?

He had packed his wife and kids into his Mini Van. He was headed for Arkansas. He had once taken a trip there and he had loved it. The rumors if they were true, told him that the land he was looking for was unoccupied. He was headed for that place of his dreams. Gas and oil may be a problem but that was something that he would deal with along the way.
Some people were moving on forward to a new place to live and others were staying put. Some wanted the adventure and some wanted the security of staying at home.

As I gaze out this window, I see the many lights in the night sky. I turn back toward the lighted board. 360 lights represent 360 different places where light shines on humanity. As I look over the board I wonder why some of us have our third eye, it seems than none of us understand why this is so. The only insight that I get from it is that we see one more space in time. I sit and monitor and wonder why do I have to be so responsible? Why am I looking over the space they occupy? Everything is self-sustaining; there really is no need for me to sit and monitor 360 different places in time.

 Bubba an the Law

Sunshine, Moon, Water and Bubba were walking along the ridge. The valley below was very long, it looked as long as the setting sun. The triangular perspective ending at the golden globe. A long valley, Sunshine had seen valleys as long as this before, it had been in his youth while traveling with his brother Thunder. The red/blue golden sun was some thing to look at. Sunshine and family found a good place to make camp for the night. Moon told Water and Bubba to fetch some berries and wood. Bubba ran off in search of firewood, Water said, " Do I have to?" She left in search of berries. Bubba came back overloaded, bouncing against trees into the campsite. Water came back with some fine berries in her thin leather skirt. Sunshine had just come back from the creek down below, two heavy leather bags of water across the wood brace on his shoulders, these he hung at a nearby tree. Moon had built a campfire, adding some wood from the pile Bubba had brought back. A large clay pot was later filled with water and seeds of the golden grass. This pot with top was buried under the red coals, later to be part of the evening meal.
Though all seemed peaceful, a keen sense of awareness, kept the eyes and hearing aware. Water and Bubba were learning to use the senses, Sunshine and Moon were well aware of the danger about Mother Earth.
 As darkness approached the campsite, we ate the cooked grain and seeds, chewed on a little hardened meat. We huddled close together, gathering comfort with the nearness of each other. Sleep came quickly to Bubba, Water nestled on softened furs, Sunshine and Moon put things away. Darkness settled the night, light from the fire waved the shadows. The shadows provided the night with movement, something to provide a mental security.
 The red glow of the charcoal embers are the only color in the night. Bubba's eyes open, his head is facing the fire. Dreamily he awakens with wonder, his head still, he looks at the fire, the colors enter his mind through his eyes, he stares, his mind is lost in the glowing embers, embracing the beauty in trance.
 The days go by, the family spends some time at this campsite. Each day is filled with chores. Soon they will move on, knowing that to gather food one must move on. Each day is the same. The drama of color change the scene. As each night deepens Bubba wakes without alarm, he looks at the  red glow of the charcoal embers. He embraces the beauty, soon he will ask his mother about his dreams.
 Before he could ask his mother about his dreams, he made a foolish mistake.
  During the night he stood and walked closer to the fire, he sat by the fire for a moment, lost in a childish dream and without knowing grasped a red charcoal. Pain shot though his body. He dropped the hot coal and ran to the small creek and jumped in. He sat in a small pool of water. He kept his hands underwater. As the pain eased, he started looking and playing in the water. Forgetting where he was, Bubba gazed into the water, watching the shimmering metallic reflection. Suddenly a light flashed in his mind. "Do not play with fire and water." As he looked into the water, he wondered where he had heard that saying? What else was said? "Be careful around strangers and animals.", "Watch what you eat." The water was soothing and cool. He raised his body out of the water and walked toward the campsite. The pain was gone, only a memory. Why worry about water and strangers? Why was his father always telling him how to live?


Two men were standing on the path. They had built homes along the path. They both spoke well and they sat at their computers composing letters of great intent. Imagine the formula, the exact emotion, placing patterns in there correct place. Like a good puzzle these thoughts fit correctly into the logic of our imagination. Seeing our perception of life before us, we understand the meanings of life. We place these images on paper for all to see. Starting with the simplest idea we put two and two together.
They had seen each others letters. They soon sent letters back and forth across the path. Each letter told the truth about the light of day and the improper direction the other gentleman was going.
One man was dressed in a suit, well pressed and correct, hair dapper and swell. The other gentleman wore colorful garments of flowing songs, long black hair waving in the breeze. Both bantered back and forth explaining to the other how to achieve the proper direction of their ways.
There is no need to tell the man the proper path to light, just listen to the voice, he speaks, the voice is the man you see/hear with the generations of knowledge pasted/painted on paper and minds.
I do not think that these gentlemen knew that they were on the same path, sharing information from their education's and unique imaginations. They were on the proper path, sharing the light of day and speaking to each other. Which is well and good.

Lantern by Tomas