Frustrated at the interruption, I opened the door a little too quickly. Surprise met me in the weathered face of Bubba White. He looked a little sheepish, probably guessing correctly that I wasn't thrilled at his visit.
Bubba White made his living trapping and selling wild hogs. Two months ago he had started trapping on my place, which has apparently been a gold mine of large hogs.
He was tall, his body toned by years of labor outdoors. He was at the age where we all start to look the same age. He could have been 40, and he could have been 50. I wasn't sure.
Everyone called him Bubba White. Not Bubba, not Mr. White, but put together, Bubba White.
Bubba White's real first name is "Bob." My neighbor told me that when Bubba White was a kid, he was teased at school. The boys would go around calling, "Bob white! Bob white!" in the same shrill way a Bobwhite Quail would call.
One day Bubba White came home and told his parents to start calling him "Bubba," and from that day on, he became known as Bubba White.
Bubba White never married, but I had a feeling it was purely by choice. Bubba White had manners. He would take his battered cap off when talking to me, and was always very polite.
"I am sorry for intruding on you like this, Mrs. Thompson, but I wanted to let you know that me and a coupla others plan on going hog hunting tonight. We're taking dogs with us, so you might want to keep Hank inside."
I wasn't a fan of using dogs for hog hunting, mainly because pit bulls were becoming the dog of choice. "Just how close do ya'll plan on coming to my house?"
"Not too close, but I figured since I've had such luck with trapping them bigs ones on your land, that we would try tonight with the dogs and see what we can rustle up."
"Can you text me when ya'll get to my property, just so I'm aware?"
"Yes, ma'am, I can do that. You have a good day, and thank you." Bubba White smiled and put his cap back on as he turned and walked back to his truck - a brand new, black Dodge Ram diesel. Bubba White did pretty well for himself.
I shut the door. I heard Bubba White start up the truck, the distinctive rumbling sound of the diesel engine fading as he drove away.
I called Rihanna back. I felt for sure that I wanted to take her with me to Ms. Ida's tomorrow, and then talk more about what was happening.
Her line started to ring. Standing there in the hallway, I noticed the livingroom grow darker, as if clouds were passing in front of the sun.
My oldest cat, Cleopatra, a gray calico, rubbed up against my legs. She meowed up at me, then sat down at my feet and stared at the livingroom.
"You feel it, too, don't you?" I asked her.
She looked up at me with her gold eyes, "Meow."
"Hi, Kiara." Rihanna said. "It's about time you called back! I was only attacked by dark shadows is all!"
"I know! I'm sorry, I got rid of him as fast as I could. Look, can you come out here tonight? I want you to go with me to Ms. Ida's tomorrow. Also, I'm not so sure you should be there by yourself. I don't really want to be alone, either, to tell you the truth."
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Friday, April 27, 2012
Wonderful, beautiful sunlight
The shadows seeped in from under the door; they dripped from the ceilings and they poured out from under my bed. They circled me. Over and over...never stopping, always whispering "Rihanna, we see you!"
I was going to lose my mind! I sat hunched on my feet, my arms protecting my head and recited the prayer louder and louder using the sheer volume of my voice to retain a hold on my sanity. I knew as long as I kept a grip on the tenuous connection between me and God, I'd be safe, but I felt my grasp slipping.
Then, the shadows dispersed quickly. Their hold on me shattered. They were just gone. Thank you, Jesus, for giving us a prayer we can remember when we're panicking! I kept my head down and covered with my arms for a moment longer. I felt drugged, like I'd taken one too many of my sedatives and couldn't shake off the lethargy. My eyes felt dry and scratchy. When I decided to look up, I gazed straight into the eyes of Kiara.
Then she was gone and I was alone in my bedroom. My creepy, dark never going to sleep in it again bedroom. How am I going to explain my fear to Rico? I have two weeks to ponder that discussion. I decided the best place to be was outside in the sunlight.
I groaned as I raised up. My legs and feet were cramped from squatting for so long. My throat hurt from screaming the prayer and my head pounded. I walked out of my room down the hallway using the walls to brace myself. I did not want to end up on the floor, prostrate, when the kids came home from school.
The glare from the sunlight forced my eyes shut when I stepped out onto the porch. The warmth from the sun, though, enveloped my body easing all my tension and aches. I slowly opened my eyes, stepped down the porch steps and onto the yard. Brilliant sunlight filtered through the oak trees' limbs. The wind blew a calming breeze across my arms blowing away any residual fear remaining in my mind and body. Thank you Lord!
I pulled my cell out of my pocket, and dialed Kiara. When she answered, she sounded harried and told me to get outside. Someone was at her door and she'd call me back. I told her I was already outside, then ended the call.
I sat down in the yard, careful of the stickers which grew not so much willy nilly in my yard, but for the sole purpose of getting stuck to shoes and clothing to be brought unknowingly into the house and deposited onto the carpet. You do not go barefoot in my house lest you end up picking stickers off the soles of your feet. I bowed my head and prayed, "Thank you Lord for delivering me from evil. Thank you for bringing my sister to me just as I was about to lose control. Without you, I'd slip away."
I stood and began walking around the yard. We had an acre covered in oaks and various other plantings that I had put in over the 11 years we'd been here. Scattered artfully around the plantings and trees were statues, knick knacks, broken pottery, bird baths and any other object I thought might add interest to our place. I liked the effect. I could walk down one side of the yard and see four painted mushrooms guarded by gnomes. On the other side owls and cherubs stood watch over our pool and backyard. Some people may think its a little too much (especially the colored lights I have wrapped around the back porch portico), but I like it.
As I strolled, I thought about the shadows and darkness and realized that Kiara and I may be dealing with something truly evil. I felt grateful for her strength. I have always had a tendency to give into temptation just for the fun of it or sometimes just to experience the risk. It thrilled me. Kiara kept me grounded. Without her, the voices just might convince me to let loose my control and join them.
I'm sure that's why God paired me with her. He knew I had a part of me that tended toward the mischievous. When we were teens, my "darker" side controlled me on the weekends leaving Kiara to look after me to make sure I got home safely, if she could find me at all.
Lately I have felt bored; ennui is settling in because I know the kids will be leaving for college soon and Rico is always gone on business. I need excitement-something different. Could I possibly be calling the darkness to me? Kiara is all alone, wondering what to do with herself. Could she be unknowingly calling for it as well?
The idea that we may be our own "dark strangers" is unsettling.
I walked back into my house deciding to throw open all the curtains and windows, including those in my bedroom, to disperse any remaining shadows. As I unlocked the latch on the kitchen window, I again heard my name whispered, "Rihanna."
I was going to lose my mind! I sat hunched on my feet, my arms protecting my head and recited the prayer louder and louder using the sheer volume of my voice to retain a hold on my sanity. I knew as long as I kept a grip on the tenuous connection between me and God, I'd be safe, but I felt my grasp slipping.
Then, the shadows dispersed quickly. Their hold on me shattered. They were just gone. Thank you, Jesus, for giving us a prayer we can remember when we're panicking! I kept my head down and covered with my arms for a moment longer. I felt drugged, like I'd taken one too many of my sedatives and couldn't shake off the lethargy. My eyes felt dry and scratchy. When I decided to look up, I gazed straight into the eyes of Kiara.
Then she was gone and I was alone in my bedroom. My creepy, dark never going to sleep in it again bedroom. How am I going to explain my fear to Rico? I have two weeks to ponder that discussion. I decided the best place to be was outside in the sunlight.
I groaned as I raised up. My legs and feet were cramped from squatting for so long. My throat hurt from screaming the prayer and my head pounded. I walked out of my room down the hallway using the walls to brace myself. I did not want to end up on the floor, prostrate, when the kids came home from school.
The glare from the sunlight forced my eyes shut when I stepped out onto the porch. The warmth from the sun, though, enveloped my body easing all my tension and aches. I slowly opened my eyes, stepped down the porch steps and onto the yard. Brilliant sunlight filtered through the oak trees' limbs. The wind blew a calming breeze across my arms blowing away any residual fear remaining in my mind and body. Thank you Lord!
I pulled my cell out of my pocket, and dialed Kiara. When she answered, she sounded harried and told me to get outside. Someone was at her door and she'd call me back. I told her I was already outside, then ended the call.
I sat down in the yard, careful of the stickers which grew not so much willy nilly in my yard, but for the sole purpose of getting stuck to shoes and clothing to be brought unknowingly into the house and deposited onto the carpet. You do not go barefoot in my house lest you end up picking stickers off the soles of your feet. I bowed my head and prayed, "Thank you Lord for delivering me from evil. Thank you for bringing my sister to me just as I was about to lose control. Without you, I'd slip away."
I stood and began walking around the yard. We had an acre covered in oaks and various other plantings that I had put in over the 11 years we'd been here. Scattered artfully around the plantings and trees were statues, knick knacks, broken pottery, bird baths and any other object I thought might add interest to our place. I liked the effect. I could walk down one side of the yard and see four painted mushrooms guarded by gnomes. On the other side owls and cherubs stood watch over our pool and backyard. Some people may think its a little too much (especially the colored lights I have wrapped around the back porch portico), but I like it.
As I strolled, I thought about the shadows and darkness and realized that Kiara and I may be dealing with something truly evil. I felt grateful for her strength. I have always had a tendency to give into temptation just for the fun of it or sometimes just to experience the risk. It thrilled me. Kiara kept me grounded. Without her, the voices just might convince me to let loose my control and join them.
I'm sure that's why God paired me with her. He knew I had a part of me that tended toward the mischievous. When we were teens, my "darker" side controlled me on the weekends leaving Kiara to look after me to make sure I got home safely, if she could find me at all.
Lately I have felt bored; ennui is settling in because I know the kids will be leaving for college soon and Rico is always gone on business. I need excitement-something different. Could I possibly be calling the darkness to me? Kiara is all alone, wondering what to do with herself. Could she be unknowingly calling for it as well?
The idea that we may be our own "dark strangers" is unsettling.
I walked back into my house deciding to throw open all the curtains and windows, including those in my bedroom, to disperse any remaining shadows. As I unlocked the latch on the kitchen window, I again heard my name whispered, "Rihanna."
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Wild Hogs
I had been transferring my changes to the landscape plan to the computer. My eyes were tired and dry from moving little round circles and squares around a line-drawing of Ms. Ida's house.
The late afternoon sun was beaming through the shades, making the study warm. I rubbed my eyes and flipped my hair off my neck. Dust motes floated dreamily in the sunlit air. I leaned my head back against the chair and listened to the quiet.
I could stay like this all night and nothing would interrupt it. There would not be any kids running into the house, slamming the door. My husband would not traipse in, bringing sand in on his shoes. I could sit in this chair, and become lost in the quiet, forever frozen in time like a museum exhibit.
The warmth from the sun, the stillness, lulled my body to sleep. I felt like I was floating, and then, wham!
I was standing in a room made dark by light-blocking shades. I could sense the daylight outside, but inside I saw shadows moving in the corners. A seductive whispering emanated from them, the sound crawling up my spine and insinuating itself into my ears.
Something moved. I realized it was my sister, crouched down with her arms over her head. She was reciting the Lord's Prayer.
Holy cow, this was happening, really happening, and I was suddenly in the middle of it. I turned around and realized Rihanna was surrounded by these shadow beings. They undulated, their shadowy bodies trying to take form, then slowly falling apart again.
The blood rushed to my ears, and my heart raced. I swallowed, trying not to panic.
I remembered the Bible verse from Ephesians. I imagined myself clothed in God's armor, and I said, "By the power given to me through the blood of Christ Jesus, I command you to leave!"
No fireworks or loud explosions shook the house, but I felt them leave, scattered by my words and the protection of Jesus. The room lightened, and I sound came back.
I looked down at Rihanna. Her green eyes were wide. They looked bruised and tired. We stared at each other, not saying anything.
Bang, bang, bang! Loud knocking on my front door startled me awake. I jumped and nearly fell out of the chair.
"Mrs. Thompson! Mrs. Thompson, it's Bubba White. I need to talk to you!"
Bubba White made a living trapping the wild hogs threatening to overtake our area. He didn't come calling unless he had a very good reason.
Super Freak blared from my phone. I answered, "Rihanna, get outside and away from your room. I have someone at the front door. Let me get rid of him and I will call you right back. But, get out into the sun!"
"I'm already outside," she said. "Talk to you in a bit."
I guess my quiet had been interrupted in more than one way. Be careful what you wish for.
The late afternoon sun was beaming through the shades, making the study warm. I rubbed my eyes and flipped my hair off my neck. Dust motes floated dreamily in the sunlit air. I leaned my head back against the chair and listened to the quiet.
I could stay like this all night and nothing would interrupt it. There would not be any kids running into the house, slamming the door. My husband would not traipse in, bringing sand in on his shoes. I could sit in this chair, and become lost in the quiet, forever frozen in time like a museum exhibit.
The warmth from the sun, the stillness, lulled my body to sleep. I felt like I was floating, and then, wham!
I was standing in a room made dark by light-blocking shades. I could sense the daylight outside, but inside I saw shadows moving in the corners. A seductive whispering emanated from them, the sound crawling up my spine and insinuating itself into my ears.
Something moved. I realized it was my sister, crouched down with her arms over her head. She was reciting the Lord's Prayer.
Holy cow, this was happening, really happening, and I was suddenly in the middle of it. I turned around and realized Rihanna was surrounded by these shadow beings. They undulated, their shadowy bodies trying to take form, then slowly falling apart again.
The blood rushed to my ears, and my heart raced. I swallowed, trying not to panic.
I remembered the Bible verse from Ephesians. I imagined myself clothed in God's armor, and I said, "By the power given to me through the blood of Christ Jesus, I command you to leave!"
No fireworks or loud explosions shook the house, but I felt them leave, scattered by my words and the protection of Jesus. The room lightened, and I sound came back.
I looked down at Rihanna. Her green eyes were wide. They looked bruised and tired. We stared at each other, not saying anything.
Bang, bang, bang! Loud knocking on my front door startled me awake. I jumped and nearly fell out of the chair.
"Mrs. Thompson! Mrs. Thompson, it's Bubba White. I need to talk to you!"
Bubba White made a living trapping the wild hogs threatening to overtake our area. He didn't come calling unless he had a very good reason.
Super Freak blared from my phone. I answered, "Rihanna, get outside and away from your room. I have someone at the front door. Let me get rid of him and I will call you right back. But, get out into the sun!"
"I'm already outside," she said. "Talk to you in a bit."
I guess my quiet had been interrupted in more than one way. Be careful what you wish for.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Crazy Train?
As I ran the vacuum over the living room rug attempting to suck up the week's accumulation of dog and cat hair, I thought about what Kiara had said about dwelling on dark and evil things. I must try not to focus too much on the dark. I could be leaving "doors" open that give a passage way for evil to come and taunt me. Or, if Kiara and I are indeed creating this shadow ourselves, give it strength by occupying all my spare thoughts to its presence.
I need to gain control over myself. Focus, again my weakness, on what is good (God), and not dwell on what is not. If I am in control of my spiritual self, the evil, or demons, might as well say it, will find it near impossible to get to me. But if they see that there are areas where I'm not in control, they could take advantage of that and worm their way in. Fear creates fear and that's what dark energy feeds upon, or so my mother says. I must always embrace God's love in order to stay strong and remain protected.
I seem to be becoming a woman obsessed. Did I actually see the shadow, or did I imagine I saw the shadow, hoping in a way that I had? Am I seeing things in reality or in my mind's eye?
Now, that's just crazy talk, Rihanna. Stop it! Don't go all "Girl, Interrupted!"
I pushed and pulled the vacuum faster as I delved further into my thoughts. Maybe my lack of sleep is causing me to perceive shadows and wailing sirens as ominous. My doctor had taken me off my Ambien because my body had become too accustomed to its effects. Ambien is a "hypnotic" drug, and can sometimes cause hallucinations and intense dreams. Yet, I never really experienced any of those symptoms while taking it. I said and did a few things I don't remember, much to the chagrin of my husband Rico! But I never hallucinated. I just never got a full, restful night's sleep. I was consistently sleep deprived.
Now I take a sedative. I have been on this medication for a week now and I have noticed an uptick in the intensity of my dreams. They are vibrant, loud, action filled and sometimes horrific. I should awake tired and listless; however, I feel more rested in the three years since I had been taking the Ambien. I'm still tired, and feel a little sleep deprived, but I'm not so tired during the day anymore.
Barely satisfied with the vacuuming job, I figured I had picked up what pet hair I could and switched of the vacuum. I unplugged the cord and rolled it up and around the vacuum until it was tight. I then pushed it to the closet at the end of the hall. As I shoved the vacuum in and closed the closet door, I heard my name "Rihanna" sighed softly against my ear. A gentle chorus of voices , but discordant in tone. The hair rose on the back of my neck and arms.
Suddenly frightened, I panicked and ran into my bedroom, closed the door and fell on my knees and began reciting the Lord's prayer over and over. I must have repeated it ten times before my heart finally slowed. I looked up. I felt them watching me from the shadows of the corners of my bedroom. I felt them listening from the other side of the closed door. I couldn't physically see anything, but in my head, I saw shadows gathering. They were attacking my weakness; my lack of focus on what is good, and I truly began to fear.
Am I going insane, or is this really happening?
Thursday, April 19, 2012
The Armor of God
I felt a little weirded out by Rihanna's phone call. Something strange seemed to be happening. Instictively, I felt that whatever was wrong with that one area of Mrs. Ida's yard had followed me home.
But Rihanna had heard someone talking to her. I couldn't quite wrap my head around that fact. Is this the time when all that stuff about evil and spirits, or the devil, or whatever actually turns real? Was last night real? Hard to imagine when the sun was shining.
It was one thing to think and talk about it, like how it might happen in a movie, but to actually say, out loud, that "something wicked this way comes," and it's talking to my sister? Now that was a whole nuther ballgame.
I sat down in my usual place on the front porch. The sun was just coming over the back of the house, but for a little while longer the front yard would be in shade. A breeze wafted the smell of the Mock Orange flowers across my face. The pair of Barn Swallows that nested under the rafters flew in chattering arcs across the porch, flying out over the grass, and back again, looking for a meal.
I just didn't know what to think. I was a true believer, wasn't I? At least, I told myself that everyday during my morning prayer time. As such, discussing the reality that something dark and shadowy was stalking my sister and I shouldn't have been such an odd thing.
There was a bible verse about the armor of God. I went inside for my Bible. It was somewhere in the New Testament. I looked for "armor" in the back, and found what I was looking for. It was verse out of Ephesians 6, 11-12:
Then, I prayed. I prayed for God to protect us and lead us to victory, and I really prayed for God to protect my sister's sanity.
The wind picked up and blew against the windows. Clouds had begun to roll in. I didn't remember hearing on the news about rain, but I would take it.
Mrs. Ida's landscape plan called. I needed to finish this draft. We had an appointment tomorrow morning. Maybe I could convince Rihanna to drive out with me.
But Rihanna had heard someone talking to her. I couldn't quite wrap my head around that fact. Is this the time when all that stuff about evil and spirits, or the devil, or whatever actually turns real? Was last night real? Hard to imagine when the sun was shining.
It was one thing to think and talk about it, like how it might happen in a movie, but to actually say, out loud, that "something wicked this way comes," and it's talking to my sister? Now that was a whole nuther ballgame.
I sat down in my usual place on the front porch. The sun was just coming over the back of the house, but for a little while longer the front yard would be in shade. A breeze wafted the smell of the Mock Orange flowers across my face. The pair of Barn Swallows that nested under the rafters flew in chattering arcs across the porch, flying out over the grass, and back again, looking for a meal.
I just didn't know what to think. I was a true believer, wasn't I? At least, I told myself that everyday during my morning prayer time. As such, discussing the reality that something dark and shadowy was stalking my sister and I shouldn't have been such an odd thing.
There was a bible verse about the armor of God. I went inside for my Bible. It was somewhere in the New Testament. I looked for "armor" in the back, and found what I was looking for. It was verse out of Ephesians 6, 11-12:
11 Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.Right there in black and white in the Bible. The rest of the verse read:
13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.OK, if I was to have faith, and be a true believer, then I would be prepared. I texted Rihanna to read verses 11-17.
Then, I prayed. I prayed for God to protect us and lead us to victory, and I really prayed for God to protect my sister's sanity.
The wind picked up and blew against the windows. Clouds had begun to roll in. I didn't remember hearing on the news about rain, but I would take it.
Mrs. Ida's landscape plan called. I needed to finish this draft. We had an appointment tomorrow morning. Maybe I could convince Rihanna to drive out with me.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Am I seeing shadows or am I just crazy?
Kiara's phone rang a few times. I knew she was holding out, listening to my theme song-"Superfreak". Not sure why she made the connection between that song and me, but I dig it.
Finally, "Hello, Rihanna, just thinking about you."
"I just wanted to check in with you. Seems we've both been having the willies lately; I think a new word would be apropos about now. Don't you? I figured we needed to speak about the out of the ordinary occurrences we've both experienced recently."
"I don't know what the deal is, really." Kiara said. "Maybe I have been alone at the house too long. Seeing things that aren't really there. I have been praying everyday, and I know when I sit outside for my "Jesus time", I always feel a lot better."
I said, "Do you remember when we were rooming with Robin and you ran up to my room one night to ask if I was ok and I told you about the shadow at the end of my bed? I think that whatever visited me that night might be back."
Kiara was silent for a moment, then she said, "Yes, I remember. It was the same presence that visited me when I lived behind the K-Mart. The one I think I saw last night."
I explained what I felt and saw the night before in my vision and then told her about my research.
"I believe we are dealing with a dark figure that may not be a stranger to us. We all have a dark side. As you slipped from my grasp, I felt, I don't know, evil or treachery. I confess that I was disturbed and frightened, but also excited that a new experience may be awaiting us."
Kiara was silent. I assumed she was listening to my amateur hypotheses.
"If we accept the theory that a shadow in dreams represents that a person is having dark thoughts and doesn't know which path to take, the good or the bad, then maybe both of us are projecting the shadow together, through our connection as twins. This shadow may represent a negative thing in your life or in the life of me"
I continued, "You have had a tough few years since Steve's death. Now, you are alone because the kids are in college and you stand at a crossroads. Which path should you take...what paths are out there for you to take? For a moment in time, you were obsessed with what to do with yourself."
"I, on the other hand, have been very possessive of what I have since Steve's death. A husband, three teenagers; what most would consider a "whole" home. The full meal deal, so to speak. In a way, I have been obsessed with the possibility of suddenly losing what I care for just like you did."
Gamely, I soldiered on. "I think the shadow could be truly something evil and attempting to break into our world. I mean, not "our world" in the sense of the world of everyone, but our own personal, familial world. On the other hand, it may be a dark representation of our personalities, or psyches, and because of our strong bond, we are giving our inner darkness life."
I heard a voice last night. It was just a whisper, but I knew it wasn't natural. Am I going crazy? Yesterday morning, I actually felt connected to something bigger than myself, something GOOD. Now, I feel the link to that something GOOD, has weakened and something else is reaching out to me."
"Rihanna, sometimes we are the ones that pull the darkness to us, even when we aren't trying to do that. Dwelling on dark things and evil, consciously thinking about these things, opens up a door for that to actually come through."
I think about this statement as I get up from the table, phone between my ear and shoulder. I walk over to the sink. As I begin washing the leftover breakfast dishes, diligently scrubbing the encrusted peanut butter off Carmen's bowl, I realize the Kiara has a point. The more I dwell on the possibility that something may be stalking us, the more likely the possibility may turn into a reality. Our junior high coaches used to tell us to visualize ourselves serving the volleyball over the net and it will happen. What if visualizing something evil makes the evil "happen"?
The scarier thought, though, was if Kiara and I were giving life to something dark.
I wash the last dish, place it on the cup towel to dry and turn off the water. I pace into the hallway, this idea weighing heavy, and look directly into the hallway mirror.
"I saw a shadow in my hall mirror last night. Do you think that was my imagination? It occurred right before my vision of you."
I could hear Kiara moving around the house. I heard the door open, and then birds chirping. "Hey, Hank," she whispered before she answered me.
"Like I said before, dwelling on something has a tendency to give that something strength. I know we both have been thinking, and feeling, lately that something is just not right." Kiara said.
"Every morning I sit out here on the porch and pray, and thank God for what I've got. I ask for blessings and safe keeping for me and my family. Every night I pray before I go to sleep and ask for God to protect my house and my family. Every time I do that I feel safe. My house is safe."
"I like to tell myself that. Last night I was freaked out, and I'm not too sure I would know what to do if it had come at me."
She sighed before continuing, "Ever since I went to Mrs. Ida's house, I have felt as if something followed me home. That is one creepy place. There is a true darkness there, outside in the woods, that is slowly engulfing her house."
I heard an awful racket on my front porch coming from my cats. I told Kiara to wait a minute, and I went to check out the problem. Fortunately, it was just another cat. A stray, one I had never noticed before. If Willard wouldn't have been laid up with a bum leg, he would have run him off. However, there was something a little strange about the cat. He looked at me with intelligence behind his green eyes. I threw a rock at him and he ran off.
"For now, while the sun is out and the weather is cool, I'm going to busy myself with mundane activities like vacuuming and dusting. Thanks for talking this out with me and let me know if you experience anything else odd." I hit "end call" and went to grab my vacuum. What better way to clear my head of cobwebs and thoughts of shadows.
Finally, "Hello, Rihanna, just thinking about you."
"I just wanted to check in with you. Seems we've both been having the willies lately; I think a new word would be apropos about now. Don't you? I figured we needed to speak about the out of the ordinary occurrences we've both experienced recently."
"I don't know what the deal is, really." Kiara said. "Maybe I have been alone at the house too long. Seeing things that aren't really there. I have been praying everyday, and I know when I sit outside for my "Jesus time", I always feel a lot better."
I said, "Do you remember when we were rooming with Robin and you ran up to my room one night to ask if I was ok and I told you about the shadow at the end of my bed? I think that whatever visited me that night might be back."
Kiara was silent for a moment, then she said, "Yes, I remember. It was the same presence that visited me when I lived behind the K-Mart. The one I think I saw last night."
I explained what I felt and saw the night before in my vision and then told her about my research.
"I believe we are dealing with a dark figure that may not be a stranger to us. We all have a dark side. As you slipped from my grasp, I felt, I don't know, evil or treachery. I confess that I was disturbed and frightened, but also excited that a new experience may be awaiting us."
Kiara was silent. I assumed she was listening to my amateur hypotheses.
"If we accept the theory that a shadow in dreams represents that a person is having dark thoughts and doesn't know which path to take, the good or the bad, then maybe both of us are projecting the shadow together, through our connection as twins. This shadow may represent a negative thing in your life or in the life of me"
I continued, "You have had a tough few years since Steve's death. Now, you are alone because the kids are in college and you stand at a crossroads. Which path should you take...what paths are out there for you to take? For a moment in time, you were obsessed with what to do with yourself."
"I, on the other hand, have been very possessive of what I have since Steve's death. A husband, three teenagers; what most would consider a "whole" home. The full meal deal, so to speak. In a way, I have been obsessed with the possibility of suddenly losing what I care for just like you did."
Gamely, I soldiered on. "I think the shadow could be truly something evil and attempting to break into our world. I mean, not "our world" in the sense of the world of everyone, but our own personal, familial world. On the other hand, it may be a dark representation of our personalities, or psyches, and because of our strong bond, we are giving our inner darkness life."
I heard a voice last night. It was just a whisper, but I knew it wasn't natural. Am I going crazy? Yesterday morning, I actually felt connected to something bigger than myself, something GOOD. Now, I feel the link to that something GOOD, has weakened and something else is reaching out to me."
"Rihanna, sometimes we are the ones that pull the darkness to us, even when we aren't trying to do that. Dwelling on dark things and evil, consciously thinking about these things, opens up a door for that to actually come through."
I think about this statement as I get up from the table, phone between my ear and shoulder. I walk over to the sink. As I begin washing the leftover breakfast dishes, diligently scrubbing the encrusted peanut butter off Carmen's bowl, I realize the Kiara has a point. The more I dwell on the possibility that something may be stalking us, the more likely the possibility may turn into a reality. Our junior high coaches used to tell us to visualize ourselves serving the volleyball over the net and it will happen. What if visualizing something evil makes the evil "happen"?
The scarier thought, though, was if Kiara and I were giving life to something dark.
I wash the last dish, place it on the cup towel to dry and turn off the water. I pace into the hallway, this idea weighing heavy, and look directly into the hallway mirror.
"I saw a shadow in my hall mirror last night. Do you think that was my imagination? It occurred right before my vision of you."
I could hear Kiara moving around the house. I heard the door open, and then birds chirping. "Hey, Hank," she whispered before she answered me.
"Like I said before, dwelling on something has a tendency to give that something strength. I know we both have been thinking, and feeling, lately that something is just not right." Kiara said.
"Every morning I sit out here on the porch and pray, and thank God for what I've got. I ask for blessings and safe keeping for me and my family. Every night I pray before I go to sleep and ask for God to protect my house and my family. Every time I do that I feel safe. My house is safe."
"I like to tell myself that. Last night I was freaked out, and I'm not too sure I would know what to do if it had come at me."
She sighed before continuing, "Ever since I went to Mrs. Ida's house, I have felt as if something followed me home. That is one creepy place. There is a true darkness there, outside in the woods, that is slowly engulfing her house."
I heard an awful racket on my front porch coming from my cats. I told Kiara to wait a minute, and I went to check out the problem. Fortunately, it was just another cat. A stray, one I had never noticed before. If Willard wouldn't have been laid up with a bum leg, he would have run him off. However, there was something a little strange about the cat. He looked at me with intelligence behind his green eyes. I threw a rock at him and he ran off.
"For now, while the sun is out and the weather is cool, I'm going to busy myself with mundane activities like vacuuming and dusting. Thanks for talking this out with me and let me know if you experience anything else odd." I hit "end call" and went to grab my vacuum. What better way to clear my head of cobwebs and thoughts of shadows.
Monday, April 16, 2012
A Landscape Plan
I sat back and rubbed my eyes. It was going on noon, and I had been working on the landscape plan for a couple of hours.
This plan was for an older lady that had definite ideas about what she wanted, and that was usually something different than what I wanted. I was currently on my third revision.
I had taken the project on as a favor to a friend. "My mother could really use some help on her yard," she said, "All mother does is sit around that house and complain about how all her plants are dying."
She had neglected to mention that her mother, Mrs. Ida Pendleton, was a control freak that needed something, and someone, to complain about. She lived alone in her big, grand house, and had spent her life as the busy wife of a high-powered Houston lawyer. Getting her way was just a part of life.
Mrs. Ida lived down the end of her own private road. It was beautiful, peaceful, but dark. Tall Post Oak trees blanketed the yard with shade, and giant, overgrown shrubs encircled the house, planted as a hedge many moons ago, and left untended to now tower above the windows.
I wanted to get some light in the yard and take out the water-guzzling plants, but to Mrs. Ida, the word "native" meant "weed". I keep telling myself that I'm getting paid for it - a LOT, so chill out.
I decided that with this latest revision I would recommend mostly cleaning up and sculpting what was currently planted. Once we got the yard under control, I would start working with her on adding new things, or taking away old things. An old woman set in her ways did not want to deal with the large amount of change I was proposing, so slowing down should hopefully help.
The left side of the house, which sloped down to a dry creekbed, needed the most attention. The original plantings had been overtaken by native yaupon, beautyberry, and poison ivy. Mustang grape vines covered some of the older yaupons, which stood close to fifteen feet tall. It had been a long time since that part of the yard had felt human hands.
The place gave me the willies. Driving up on the old Victorian house that first day, my eye was immediatly drawn to that left side. It sucked the light down into it, giving the area a mysterious, elusive quality. Shadows hung there even during the sunniest part of the day. They seemed to float around the porch as if looking for an entrance into the house.
I had parked and stepped out onto the caliche drive. It was then that I saw Mrs. Ida standing on the front porch, in the midst of the shadows. She maintained the countenance of a rich, Texas wife. She held her thin frame ramrod straight, with her gray hair pulled back in a low bun. She exuded a "don't mess with me, I'm the boss" attitude from the get-go.
She walked down the steps to greet me. The shadows seemed to follow for a short time, their feathery edges finally breaking away as Mrs. Ida walked into the sun.
I had shaken her hand. It was papery thin and cold, but the grip was iron hard. Thinking back on it, I rubbed my hands together. Ever since that day, I felt as if some of those shadows had followed me home.
I got up to get a glass of tea. My cell phone started singing "Super Freak". It was my sister.
This plan was for an older lady that had definite ideas about what she wanted, and that was usually something different than what I wanted. I was currently on my third revision.
I had taken the project on as a favor to a friend. "My mother could really use some help on her yard," she said, "All mother does is sit around that house and complain about how all her plants are dying."
She had neglected to mention that her mother, Mrs. Ida Pendleton, was a control freak that needed something, and someone, to complain about. She lived alone in her big, grand house, and had spent her life as the busy wife of a high-powered Houston lawyer. Getting her way was just a part of life.
Mrs. Ida lived down the end of her own private road. It was beautiful, peaceful, but dark. Tall Post Oak trees blanketed the yard with shade, and giant, overgrown shrubs encircled the house, planted as a hedge many moons ago, and left untended to now tower above the windows.
I wanted to get some light in the yard and take out the water-guzzling plants, but to Mrs. Ida, the word "native" meant "weed". I keep telling myself that I'm getting paid for it - a LOT, so chill out.
I decided that with this latest revision I would recommend mostly cleaning up and sculpting what was currently planted. Once we got the yard under control, I would start working with her on adding new things, or taking away old things. An old woman set in her ways did not want to deal with the large amount of change I was proposing, so slowing down should hopefully help.
The left side of the house, which sloped down to a dry creekbed, needed the most attention. The original plantings had been overtaken by native yaupon, beautyberry, and poison ivy. Mustang grape vines covered some of the older yaupons, which stood close to fifteen feet tall. It had been a long time since that part of the yard had felt human hands.
The place gave me the willies. Driving up on the old Victorian house that first day, my eye was immediatly drawn to that left side. It sucked the light down into it, giving the area a mysterious, elusive quality. Shadows hung there even during the sunniest part of the day. They seemed to float around the porch as if looking for an entrance into the house.
I had parked and stepped out onto the caliche drive. It was then that I saw Mrs. Ida standing on the front porch, in the midst of the shadows. She maintained the countenance of a rich, Texas wife. She held her thin frame ramrod straight, with her gray hair pulled back in a low bun. She exuded a "don't mess with me, I'm the boss" attitude from the get-go.
She walked down the steps to greet me. The shadows seemed to follow for a short time, their feathery edges finally breaking away as Mrs. Ida walked into the sun.
I had shaken her hand. It was papery thin and cold, but the grip was iron hard. Thinking back on it, I rubbed my hands together. Ever since that day, I felt as if some of those shadows had followed me home.
I got up to get a glass of tea. My cell phone started singing "Super Freak". It was my sister.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Thinking in Circles
Thinking in circles, thinking in circles....that thought went across my mind so many times it didn't even seem like a real phrase anymore. I decided to do a little research before I called Kiara. If a shadow needed light in order "to be", then why would a shadow be bad? Or creepy? A physical shadow, one that we see on the sidewalk walking behind us in the afternoon, would of course need light to exist. But as I thought about our vision, I decided that we are not dealing with the physical aspect of shadow. Our encounters were more ethereal.
The first reference I found to spooky shadow encounters referred to Shadow People. Apparently, this is the kind of "haunting" caused by the spirit of a dead person whose spirit is trapped here on earth and not able to move on. Usually, the person died a fast and violent death and may not be aware that they are indeed dead. Often seen from the corner of your eye or pacing maniacally from one point to another, they move quickly and are difficult to pin down. I don't think that's what Kiara and I had experienced.
Next, I read about the shadow archetype used in literature to portray a character's loss of his or her identity and inhibitions. These characters are the exemplification of the primitive brutality or dark side of nature. The "dark side" of nature. That sounded more plausible. However, the shadow man, for lack of a better term, seemed to have an identity, although he did not seem to be in much control of his inhibitions.
Then, there is the Jungian perspective of the shadow. I read through Wikipedia's explanation of Jung's view of the "shadow", an instinctual and irrational part of the unconscious mind. He postulated that "in spite of its function as a reservoir for human darkness—or perhaps because of this—the shadow is the seat of creativity...it may be the dark side of his being, representing the true spirit of life," the primitive as opposed to a purely rational way of thinking and living.
I don't believe that the shadow we had witnessed had anything to do with creativity. The "dark or negative side" of a personality, I could believe. We all have a dark side and last night, as Kiara slipped from my grasp, I felt his darkness emanating through our connection into my psyche. It disturbed me, frightened me, but also excited me a little because to give in would be forbidden, and the forbidden can be fun.
A shadow in dreams may represent that you are having dark thoughts and don't know which path to take, the good or the bad. Or, the shadow may represent a negative thing in your life or in the life of another person close to you. The obsessive or possessive nature of yourself or the other person. Most explanations concerning shadows in dreams say that the shadow depicts a figure of the same sex as yourself or is a symbol of someone who represents your opposite, but who is the same sex as yourself. Strange, the shadow from my vision in which Kiara was threatened seemed so male.
I began to think that Light indeed may be needed to disperse this Shadow.
Figuring further research would drive me mad, I picked up my cell and speed dialed Kiara.
The first reference I found to spooky shadow encounters referred to Shadow People. Apparently, this is the kind of "haunting" caused by the spirit of a dead person whose spirit is trapped here on earth and not able to move on. Usually, the person died a fast and violent death and may not be aware that they are indeed dead. Often seen from the corner of your eye or pacing maniacally from one point to another, they move quickly and are difficult to pin down. I don't think that's what Kiara and I had experienced.
Next, I read about the shadow archetype used in literature to portray a character's loss of his or her identity and inhibitions. These characters are the exemplification of the primitive brutality or dark side of nature. The "dark side" of nature. That sounded more plausible. However, the shadow man, for lack of a better term, seemed to have an identity, although he did not seem to be in much control of his inhibitions.
Then, there is the Jungian perspective of the shadow. I read through Wikipedia's explanation of Jung's view of the "shadow", an instinctual and irrational part of the unconscious mind. He postulated that "in spite of its function as a reservoir for human darkness—or perhaps because of this—the shadow is the seat of creativity...it may be the dark side of his being, representing the true spirit of life," the primitive as opposed to a purely rational way of thinking and living.
I don't believe that the shadow we had witnessed had anything to do with creativity. The "dark or negative side" of a personality, I could believe. We all have a dark side and last night, as Kiara slipped from my grasp, I felt his darkness emanating through our connection into my psyche. It disturbed me, frightened me, but also excited me a little because to give in would be forbidden, and the forbidden can be fun.
A shadow in dreams may represent that you are having dark thoughts and don't know which path to take, the good or the bad. Or, the shadow may represent a negative thing in your life or in the life of another person close to you. The obsessive or possessive nature of yourself or the other person. Most explanations concerning shadows in dreams say that the shadow depicts a figure of the same sex as yourself or is a symbol of someone who represents your opposite, but who is the same sex as yourself. Strange, the shadow from my vision in which Kiara was threatened seemed so male.
I began to think that Light indeed may be needed to disperse this Shadow.
Figuring further research would drive me mad, I picked up my cell and speed dialed Kiara.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Sunshine and wind chimes
It is 6:15 am and the sun was not even up yet, so why was I? I brushed my teeth and put my red curly hair up into a ponytail and walked into the kitchen. The kids would be up soon, Rico would be leaving for a two week job in Portland and I would then be alone with the day stretching before me. Oh, the possibilities!
Carmen stumbled out of bed first, grabbed the Reese's Puffs and poured it into a bowl with her obligatory spoonful of peanut butter mashed onto the side (a trick learned from their dad). Sylvia soon followed, asking if I could make her a lunch. Dean grumbled his way down the hall to the bathroom eventually emerging as a somewhat coherent teenage boy. Kissed four times on the cheek; my brood was gone.
The sun was now fully up. I opened my kitchen windows fully to let in the cool clean air. My chimes were twinkling in the the breeze. I have a penchant for collecting them and at least 10 hang on trees and eaves around my yard. Taking a deep breath, I sat down at my laptop, flipped the lid and prepared to read my emails. Perhaps, just for fun, I would Google psychic twin connections. I also thought about making an appointment with my doctor for an MRI. I had pushed the voice and its message to the back of my thoughts, not wanting to deal with the implications just yet.
As my computer booted up, a text from my sister came through. She told me she had a dream last night. One she had experienced many times as a child. Although I would need more detail regarding the dream to verify the similarity to the vision I had, at this point, a psychic twin connection seemed plausible. Cool. Strange that we "reconnected" at this time. I wonder if the shadow is forcing us to open up, or maybe God, or our angels, are forcing us to connect in order to protect each other? Interesting question.
Again, as the night before, a memory stirred. Kiara and I were living in a three bedroom two bath two story condo with Robin, a high school friend of ours. Back in the 80's, this little condo cost us $570 a month, unbelievable. I roomed upstairs while Kiara took the master bedroom downstairs.
We had all retired for the night and sleep was about to take me when I noticed a black form standing at the foot of my bed. I froze; my heart slowed and I couldn't think. I felt like a child when nightmares would awaken me and I was so frightened I couldn't call out for my mom. Suddenly, I heard Kiara's footsteps taking the stairs two at a time as she hurried to my room.
"What's the matter? Are you alright?" she asked.
"I don't know. I thought I saw a human shaped shadow at the foot of my bed. It's gone now. How did you know?" I wondered.
Standing in my doorway, back lit by the hall light, I saw her shrug. "Don't know. Just sensed something might be wrong." She then turned and trudged back down to her room.
A cloud just passed across the sun, dimming the kitchen momentarily. I got up and walked outside onto the lawn. Under the oak trees, I sat and thought about the shadows. I put my hands on the ground and asked God if we were seeing things. I felt a pulse under my palms. Curious, I looked down to see if I had placed my hands on a bug, but no, just weeds and clover disguising themselves as grass.
I shut my eyes, focused my thoughts, opened my eyes and began to pray. A verse from Psalm 23 came to mind..."He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul." I felt the pulse again and realized I had just made some kind of connection. With what, I'm not sure. I am part of God's creation so maybe He was attempting to contact me, restore my spirit, through His creation.
Observe, Rihanna. Remember the epiphany you had the other night about observing the world around you. Shadows could be overcome by light, but without the light, there would be no shadows. Now I was thinking in circles. I stood up to call Kiara.
Carmen stumbled out of bed first, grabbed the Reese's Puffs and poured it into a bowl with her obligatory spoonful of peanut butter mashed onto the side (a trick learned from their dad). Sylvia soon followed, asking if I could make her a lunch. Dean grumbled his way down the hall to the bathroom eventually emerging as a somewhat coherent teenage boy. Kissed four times on the cheek; my brood was gone.
The sun was now fully up. I opened my kitchen windows fully to let in the cool clean air. My chimes were twinkling in the the breeze. I have a penchant for collecting them and at least 10 hang on trees and eaves around my yard. Taking a deep breath, I sat down at my laptop, flipped the lid and prepared to read my emails. Perhaps, just for fun, I would Google psychic twin connections. I also thought about making an appointment with my doctor for an MRI. I had pushed the voice and its message to the back of my thoughts, not wanting to deal with the implications just yet.
As my computer booted up, a text from my sister came through. She told me she had a dream last night. One she had experienced many times as a child. Although I would need more detail regarding the dream to verify the similarity to the vision I had, at this point, a psychic twin connection seemed plausible. Cool. Strange that we "reconnected" at this time. I wonder if the shadow is forcing us to open up, or maybe God, or our angels, are forcing us to connect in order to protect each other? Interesting question.
Again, as the night before, a memory stirred. Kiara and I were living in a three bedroom two bath two story condo with Robin, a high school friend of ours. Back in the 80's, this little condo cost us $570 a month, unbelievable. I roomed upstairs while Kiara took the master bedroom downstairs.
We had all retired for the night and sleep was about to take me when I noticed a black form standing at the foot of my bed. I froze; my heart slowed and I couldn't think. I felt like a child when nightmares would awaken me and I was so frightened I couldn't call out for my mom. Suddenly, I heard Kiara's footsteps taking the stairs two at a time as she hurried to my room.
"What's the matter? Are you alright?" she asked.
"I don't know. I thought I saw a human shaped shadow at the foot of my bed. It's gone now. How did you know?" I wondered.
Standing in my doorway, back lit by the hall light, I saw her shrug. "Don't know. Just sensed something might be wrong." She then turned and trudged back down to her room.
A cloud just passed across the sun, dimming the kitchen momentarily. I got up and walked outside onto the lawn. Under the oak trees, I sat and thought about the shadows. I put my hands on the ground and asked God if we were seeing things. I felt a pulse under my palms. Curious, I looked down to see if I had placed my hands on a bug, but no, just weeds and clover disguising themselves as grass.
I shut my eyes, focused my thoughts, opened my eyes and began to pray. A verse from Psalm 23 came to mind..."He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul." I felt the pulse again and realized I had just made some kind of connection. With what, I'm not sure. I am part of God's creation so maybe He was attempting to contact me, restore my spirit, through His creation.
Observe, Rihanna. Remember the epiphany you had the other night about observing the world around you. Shadows could be overcome by light, but without the light, there would be no shadows. Now I was thinking in circles. I stood up to call Kiara.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
A Shadow Comes Calling
I woke up with an aching head, stinging neck, and stiff back and legs. I had to push Hank off me to get up.
The early morning sun sneaked around the blinds, too bright and cheery.
I rolled out of bed and started my morning routine. A nice latte would do me just fine. My kids had given me an extra expensive cappaccino machine for my birthday. It made great lattes.
I walked into the living room, looking up reflexively. Nothing up there but air. I picked up my phone from the counter and texted my sister.
"I dreamed that devil man dream again last night. Remember the one I had way back when I woke up and thought I saw a ghost? Gave me the willies. How did your night go?" I pressed "send".
I fixed myself a latte and walked out front to enjoy the morning. I had a busy morning ahead of me if I wanted to finish my latest landscape plan.
I started my own landscape business three years ago, about a year after Steve died. He was killed by a drunk driver while he was on his way home from work. It happened so quickly. One minute I was thinking about what to cook for supper, and if I needed Steve to pick up anything from the store, and the next minute, I'm not too sure. It will remain a blur by choice. All I know is that I was alone, for the first time in my life.
Losing someone in that fashion, it is so quick. Death comes up and smacks you in the face and you realize how little time you have to enjoy and experience life. So, I figured why not start a business? The kids were set for college, and the house was paid off. What did I have to lose, money?
I asked God to take care of it, and he did. I am still here, not quite the successful landscaper, but able to keep myself busy. I thank God everyday for giving me something creative to do.
If you were to drive up to my house, you would be hard-pressed to tell a landscaper lives here. We're kind of like mechanics - fix everyone else's yard first, then maybe get around to fixing ours someday. I like to tell myself I went to all native, "water-wise" plantings. That's just my way of saying weeds are good. I hung up a few windchimes, and their tinkling lends an ethereal quality to the yard.
The Black-Eyed Susans, Bluebonnets, and other wildflowers were blooming. Yellows, blues, reds, and oranges splashed across the yard. Just way too pretty to mow.
I was standing there on the porch waxing poetic about the beauty of God's creation when a movement on my right caught my eye. I looked that way, through the small stand of Yaupon, but didn't see anything unusual. The birds stopped chirping, and even the wind stilled. Something was there, watching me.
Hank was over by the wellhouse. He looked that way. His hair stood on end, and he growled at whatever it was behind the trees. I felt rooted to where I stood, almost held forcibly in place. I squinted through the gnarled branches, but couldn't see anything.
Hank finally huffed, shook his head, and trotted over to investigate. The noise came back, and the wind picked up. I headed inside suddenly needing a fresh cup of coffee.
The early morning sun sneaked around the blinds, too bright and cheery.
I rolled out of bed and started my morning routine. A nice latte would do me just fine. My kids had given me an extra expensive cappaccino machine for my birthday. It made great lattes.
I walked into the living room, looking up reflexively. Nothing up there but air. I picked up my phone from the counter and texted my sister.
"I dreamed that devil man dream again last night. Remember the one I had way back when I woke up and thought I saw a ghost? Gave me the willies. How did your night go?" I pressed "send".
I fixed myself a latte and walked out front to enjoy the morning. I had a busy morning ahead of me if I wanted to finish my latest landscape plan.
I started my own landscape business three years ago, about a year after Steve died. He was killed by a drunk driver while he was on his way home from work. It happened so quickly. One minute I was thinking about what to cook for supper, and if I needed Steve to pick up anything from the store, and the next minute, I'm not too sure. It will remain a blur by choice. All I know is that I was alone, for the first time in my life.
Losing someone in that fashion, it is so quick. Death comes up and smacks you in the face and you realize how little time you have to enjoy and experience life. So, I figured why not start a business? The kids were set for college, and the house was paid off. What did I have to lose, money?
I asked God to take care of it, and he did. I am still here, not quite the successful landscaper, but able to keep myself busy. I thank God everyday for giving me something creative to do.
If you were to drive up to my house, you would be hard-pressed to tell a landscaper lives here. We're kind of like mechanics - fix everyone else's yard first, then maybe get around to fixing ours someday. I like to tell myself I went to all native, "water-wise" plantings. That's just my way of saying weeds are good. I hung up a few windchimes, and their tinkling lends an ethereal quality to the yard.
The Black-Eyed Susans, Bluebonnets, and other wildflowers were blooming. Yellows, blues, reds, and oranges splashed across the yard. Just way too pretty to mow.
I was standing there on the porch waxing poetic about the beauty of God's creation when a movement on my right caught my eye. I looked that way, through the small stand of Yaupon, but didn't see anything unusual. The birds stopped chirping, and even the wind stilled. Something was there, watching me.
Hank was over by the wellhouse. He looked that way. His hair stood on end, and he growled at whatever it was behind the trees. I felt rooted to where I stood, almost held forcibly in place. I squinted through the gnarled branches, but couldn't see anything.
Hank finally huffed, shook his head, and trotted over to investigate. The noise came back, and the wind picked up. I headed inside suddenly needing a fresh cup of coffee.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Time to go Inside
I called to Dean to come inside. He had a tennis meet the next day and needed to get to bed. Plus, I had the willies. Something about the sound of the ambulance siren raised the hairs on my arms and made me instinctively want to hide. Looking once more at the moon in its glorious fullness, I stepped beside Dean and walked up the stairs of my porch into the house. My girls, Sylvia and Carmen, sat at the round table in our kitchen finishing their homework. Sylvia looked up, a question in her brown eyes. Carmen shivered as the door closed, adjusted her ear phones and turned up the volume of her ipod.
Nothing seemed wrong. In fact, the evening was mainly business as usual. Except for the siren. As it wailed past a dissonant memory stirred deep in my subconscious. I shook off the feeling and thought instead of the moon and its brilliance and the idea that something great is waiting for me. A thoughtful cliche, but comforting after the the uneasiness of the siren.
"Mama, when's daddy getting home?" asked Sylvia.
"After bowling, honey, probably around 10:00." Rico bowled every Monday night and had for the past eleven years. Sylvia knew, but it was habit for her to ask. Normal.
Dean, sensing that the three girls in the room were out of sorts, cracked, "Maybe the Wild Hunt is about and looking for fair maidens as game!"
"If that's the case, then I'm safe!" I said, "and besides, we don't live in Ireland, we're just part Irish. Now all of you, time to get ready for bed."
As they all went about their bedtime routines, I toured the house locking the doors and turning on night lights. The last thing I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, before I shut off the dining room light and clicked on the owl night light, was a strange shaped shadow reflected in the hall mirror. I closed my eyes, shook my head and reopened them. The shadow had left.
"Perhaps the moonlight reflecting off the crystals of the small chandelier hanging over my dining table caused the effect." I thought.
I jumped, startled, as Lilith, my eldest cat and oldest friend, brushed up against my legs. She gazed at me with her blue eyes then turned and sauntered toward my bedroom. Not looking back, I followed.
Each child has his or her own room and we all keep our doors closed for fire safety. Without Rico, I sometimes feel so lonely behind that closed door. I guess its better that burning to death, though. I muted the overhead light and proceeded to my bathroom. I admired my brand new shimmering gold shower curtain as I started to brush my teeth and ready myself for bed. As I squeezed the toothpaste onto my cherry red toothbrush, I was overcome with dizziness and abruptly sat down on the floor to keep from falling.
The dizzy spell did not abate and I began to hallucinate. All I could see were mirrors, everywhere, reflecting two shadows moving together-dancing. Then I saw Kiara. She looked confused. Without thinking, I grabbed her arms, and that's when I noticed the shadow lurking behind her. It was only a form; however, I sensed it was male and that it was angry.
As she slipped out of my grasp I yelled, "Put up a wall between you and him. Don't let him touch you!" I didn't know if he was evil, but something about him just felt wrong. Lilith hissed and and nipped my fingers, the sting of her small sharp teeth returning my vision to normal. She rammed her head against my arms then quickly turned, ran and leaped onto my bed. Looking back at me with her cool gaze, inquiring in that way cats do, she asked if I was going to come to bed too. I did.
As I laid my head down onto my pillow, sighing as I rubbed my legs against the sheets made soft by many washings with lavendar scented fabric softener, a voice whispered to me, "I'll see you soon, Rihanna."
Nothing seemed wrong. In fact, the evening was mainly business as usual. Except for the siren. As it wailed past a dissonant memory stirred deep in my subconscious. I shook off the feeling and thought instead of the moon and its brilliance and the idea that something great is waiting for me. A thoughtful cliche, but comforting after the the uneasiness of the siren.
"Mama, when's daddy getting home?" asked Sylvia.
"After bowling, honey, probably around 10:00." Rico bowled every Monday night and had for the past eleven years. Sylvia knew, but it was habit for her to ask. Normal.
Dean, sensing that the three girls in the room were out of sorts, cracked, "Maybe the Wild Hunt is about and looking for fair maidens as game!"
"If that's the case, then I'm safe!" I said, "and besides, we don't live in Ireland, we're just part Irish. Now all of you, time to get ready for bed."
As they all went about their bedtime routines, I toured the house locking the doors and turning on night lights. The last thing I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, before I shut off the dining room light and clicked on the owl night light, was a strange shaped shadow reflected in the hall mirror. I closed my eyes, shook my head and reopened them. The shadow had left.
"Perhaps the moonlight reflecting off the crystals of the small chandelier hanging over my dining table caused the effect." I thought.
I jumped, startled, as Lilith, my eldest cat and oldest friend, brushed up against my legs. She gazed at me with her blue eyes then turned and sauntered toward my bedroom. Not looking back, I followed.
Each child has his or her own room and we all keep our doors closed for fire safety. Without Rico, I sometimes feel so lonely behind that closed door. I guess its better that burning to death, though. I muted the overhead light and proceeded to my bathroom. I admired my brand new shimmering gold shower curtain as I started to brush my teeth and ready myself for bed. As I squeezed the toothpaste onto my cherry red toothbrush, I was overcome with dizziness and abruptly sat down on the floor to keep from falling.
The dizzy spell did not abate and I began to hallucinate. All I could see were mirrors, everywhere, reflecting two shadows moving together-dancing. Then I saw Kiara. She looked confused. Without thinking, I grabbed her arms, and that's when I noticed the shadow lurking behind her. It was only a form; however, I sensed it was male and that it was angry.
As she slipped out of my grasp I yelled, "Put up a wall between you and him. Don't let him touch you!" I didn't know if he was evil, but something about him just felt wrong. Lilith hissed and and nipped my fingers, the sting of her small sharp teeth returning my vision to normal. She rammed her head against my arms then quickly turned, ran and leaped onto my bed. Looking back at me with her cool gaze, inquiring in that way cats do, she asked if I was going to come to bed too. I did.
As I laid my head down onto my pillow, sighing as I rubbed my legs against the sheets made soft by many washings with lavendar scented fabric softener, a voice whispered to me, "I'll see you soon, Rihanna."
And So It Begins
My body ached from working in the yard all day. I had a slight sunburn across the back of my neck. I really wanted a hot bath, but the burned skin would have none of that, so I settled for rubbing the inside of aloe vera leaves across my hot skin.
It was close to eleven. I couldn't sleep. I had popped four ibuprofen to help with the muscle pain, and was trying to find a comfortable way to lay in bed where I could also read my book.
June bugs were hitting the window, the sound of their bodies pelting against the glass sounding a lot like heavy rain or light hail.
Hank would not stop barking. I got up and opened the door to the back porch, and several june bugs bumbled in, trying to get caught in my hair. I flapped my arms around to bat them away. I hate june bugs.
The moon was a big, yellow ball. Smoky clouds hovered around it, every now and then wisping away. It's muted glow gave the backyard a sinister look.
A restlessness filled the air. The coyotes whined and howled at each other, too close to the house.
However, I assumed Hank was barking at the wild pigs. They were bad this year. The summer drought had caused the Post Oaks to produce a ton of acorns. Late fall and winter rains made water and grasses easy to come by, especially up close to the house.
I could hear Hank, but not see him. It sounded like he was beyond the barn. "Hank, get in here!" I yelled.
After a few moments I heard him trotting up to the house, and his form finally emerged from shadow into the back porch light. He looked nervous and his hair was still standing up on his back.
I hated times like these. What should I do? Did his hair standing on end mean I should do something?
My aloneness hit me. Steve would have gone outside and looked. Steve would have taken care of it. But Steve was gone now, it was just me. And my faith. I must always keep my faith.
Hank seemed to know I was distressed. He wagged his tail and licked my hand. "It's OK." He seemed to say.
I closed the door and got back into bed. I remembered how big of a deal it was to put a back door into our bedroom. Now, it just seemed like an open invitation for trouble.
The night wore on. I could hardly sleep. It was like something was out there waiting for me in the darkness. Eventually, I drifted off.
Hank snuffled my hand from the edge of the bed and whined. I looked over at the door. There wasn't anything there.
I got up and walked into the livingroom, looking upstairs at the doorway to my daughter's room. A low growl came from behind me. Hank saw it, too. A smoky, dark figure hanging there by my daughter's empty room.
Adrenalin shot through me. I stepped back and put my hand on Hank's neck. His hackles were raised.
I could feel it looking at me, if "looking" was the right word.
"Get out of here." I said, "You are not welcome." I swallowed, starting to shake.
Hank made to move. I looked down at him, distracted. When I looked back up, the figure was gone.
I refused to be afraid in my own house. Quickly, I turned the lights on and ran upstairs, maybe proving to myself I had the guts. I didn't really know what I could do if it came back.
I switched on the light in Delilah's room. It was empty. Neat and tidy with her bed ready for her next visit home.
I turned off the light and walked back to my room. "I will not be afraid in my own house." I told myself.
However, when I laid back down, I called Hank up there, too. His warm, furry body leaned against mine, and I felt safer knowing he was there.
"Dear Jesus," I prayed, "Please protect my house." A peace filled me and I was able to go back to sleep.
It was close to eleven. I couldn't sleep. I had popped four ibuprofen to help with the muscle pain, and was trying to find a comfortable way to lay in bed where I could also read my book.
June bugs were hitting the window, the sound of their bodies pelting against the glass sounding a lot like heavy rain or light hail.
Hank would not stop barking. I got up and opened the door to the back porch, and several june bugs bumbled in, trying to get caught in my hair. I flapped my arms around to bat them away. I hate june bugs.
The moon was a big, yellow ball. Smoky clouds hovered around it, every now and then wisping away. It's muted glow gave the backyard a sinister look.
A restlessness filled the air. The coyotes whined and howled at each other, too close to the house.
However, I assumed Hank was barking at the wild pigs. They were bad this year. The summer drought had caused the Post Oaks to produce a ton of acorns. Late fall and winter rains made water and grasses easy to come by, especially up close to the house.
I could hear Hank, but not see him. It sounded like he was beyond the barn. "Hank, get in here!" I yelled.
After a few moments I heard him trotting up to the house, and his form finally emerged from shadow into the back porch light. He looked nervous and his hair was still standing up on his back.
I hated times like these. What should I do? Did his hair standing on end mean I should do something?
My aloneness hit me. Steve would have gone outside and looked. Steve would have taken care of it. But Steve was gone now, it was just me. And my faith. I must always keep my faith.
Hank seemed to know I was distressed. He wagged his tail and licked my hand. "It's OK." He seemed to say.
I closed the door and got back into bed. I remembered how big of a deal it was to put a back door into our bedroom. Now, it just seemed like an open invitation for trouble.
The night wore on. I could hardly sleep. It was like something was out there waiting for me in the darkness. Eventually, I drifted off.
I was dreaming I was in a ballroom. Just me and a tall man dressed in a tuxedo. He had me in his arms and we were waltzing. Just the two of us in this big, empty room filled with mirrors.
The light was bright and the floor was a light colored-wood.The man stared at me as if I was his possession. His arms were strong and commanding. I felt trapped and knew I had to get away from him.
Somehow, I ended up in the bathroom. I thought I was alone at first. The room was white, with a long white counter and four white sinks. The walls glittered like gold. I knew I should be afraid, but I felt more lost and confused.
Suddenly, my sister was there, all color and concern. Behind her stood another woman dressed in white. Rihanna grabbed my arms and said, "Put up a wall between you and him. Don't let him touch you."
I was back in the ballroom and the man was waiting for me. He looked angry. He reached for me. At that moment, a clear wall appeared in front of me. He started banging on it. The wall bowed toward me, like it was a flimsy plastic. I could hear him screaming to let him in, and see the animal rage in his face. But I held on.I gasped and woke up. The room was dark. I remembered this dream. It was one I had dreamed twenty years ago in my college apartment. I had awakened and saw a smoky black figure in my doorway. For years after that I couldn't sleep without a light on.
Hank snuffled my hand from the edge of the bed and whined. I looked over at the door. There wasn't anything there.
I got up and walked into the livingroom, looking upstairs at the doorway to my daughter's room. A low growl came from behind me. Hank saw it, too. A smoky, dark figure hanging there by my daughter's empty room.
Adrenalin shot through me. I stepped back and put my hand on Hank's neck. His hackles were raised.
I could feel it looking at me, if "looking" was the right word.
"Get out of here." I said, "You are not welcome." I swallowed, starting to shake.
Hank made to move. I looked down at him, distracted. When I looked back up, the figure was gone.
I refused to be afraid in my own house. Quickly, I turned the lights on and ran upstairs, maybe proving to myself I had the guts. I didn't really know what I could do if it came back.
I switched on the light in Delilah's room. It was empty. Neat and tidy with her bed ready for her next visit home.
I turned off the light and walked back to my room. "I will not be afraid in my own house." I told myself.
However, when I laid back down, I called Hank up there, too. His warm, furry body leaned against mine, and I felt safer knowing he was there.
"Dear Jesus," I prayed, "Please protect my house." A peace filled me and I was able to go back to sleep.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
The Moon is Full Tonight
The moon is full tonight. Although masked in a hazy cloud, its brilliance shines through and illuminates the stars. I stand outside at the end of our driveway with my son Dean. He's 16 and still enjoys jousting with sticks that resemble a wizard's staff. I looked up at the sky with him and he pointed out the big dipper. He knows that one, as well as the North star and when the planets Venus or Mars are visible.
Between the stars, the sky was black, inky and immense. And so silent. Yes, the crickets and frogs were singing their nightly chorus, so unlike last year when the drought ruled and nothing spoke. But the solitude; the solitude I felt gazing up at infinity enveloped me and I began to notice ...everything. I had fought with how to connect with whatever is out there that draws living things together and realized that observing what is happening around you must be the key because it requires you to focus.
Embracing this epiphany, I walked to the center of my yard. I noticed the blowing wind rustling the tree limbs and creating shadows and shapes. I breathed in the scent of leaves and dirt still moist from yesterday's rainstorm. I listened to Dean's footsteps as he stomped towards me across the yard and felt the energy vibrating from the ground after each step. To be able to draw that energy up into myself would be delicious! The power so desirable.
A buzzing sound distracted me. It was faint at first, but grew stronger as I turned my attention to it. The buzzing reverberated throughout my head until finally the sound became a word....Rhianna. Unlike the morning I heard the voice whisper my name and felt the wrongness in it, this time I felt need...and possibility. I could grasp the energy emanating from the earth, wind it into myself and use it.
Suddenly, a Sheriff's car screamed past the house, sirens blaring. The buzzing ceased and instinctively I knew it was time to get myself and Dean into the house.
Between the stars, the sky was black, inky and immense. And so silent. Yes, the crickets and frogs were singing their nightly chorus, so unlike last year when the drought ruled and nothing spoke. But the solitude; the solitude I felt gazing up at infinity enveloped me and I began to notice ...everything. I had fought with how to connect with whatever is out there that draws living things together and realized that observing what is happening around you must be the key because it requires you to focus.
Embracing this epiphany, I walked to the center of my yard. I noticed the blowing wind rustling the tree limbs and creating shadows and shapes. I breathed in the scent of leaves and dirt still moist from yesterday's rainstorm. I listened to Dean's footsteps as he stomped towards me across the yard and felt the energy vibrating from the ground after each step. To be able to draw that energy up into myself would be delicious! The power so desirable.
A buzzing sound distracted me. It was faint at first, but grew stronger as I turned my attention to it. The buzzing reverberated throughout my head until finally the sound became a word....Rhianna. Unlike the morning I heard the voice whisper my name and felt the wrongness in it, this time I felt need...and possibility. I could grasp the energy emanating from the earth, wind it into myself and use it.
Suddenly, a Sheriff's car screamed past the house, sirens blaring. The buzzing ceased and instinctively I knew it was time to get myself and Dean into the house.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
The Second Character Is Introduced
I took a break from working in the yard and sat down on the back porch. The back porch is the best place to be in the afternoon. It's shady. The sound of water falling out of the waterfall in the pool is soothing.
The glass of tea I made was beginning to sweat. It was warm and the air was full of flying insects looking for something to pollinate.
I love it in the country. It is so easy to see the presence of God everywhere. The play of the wind across the trees making the leaves rustle and the wind chimes tinkle. Birds singing to each other, and the butterflies - lots of butterflies - diving in and out of the grass.
This quiet time is my sanctuary. My time with God. My time to feel whole again and ease that emptiness I carried with me.
God is my refuge. Even in the silence of the afternoon there is a knowing, a sense of being, that comes only from the peace given freely and willingly from Him.
Hank, my old German Shepard, came panting up onto the porch and threw himself down on the cool cement. The cats began to find me, too. I have six - not by my choice, but theirs. Each one turned up on their own. Maybe they sense the peace here.
I love watching the cats and dog interact. It's like a little animal sit com. And they are always so quiet. They don't want to break the peace either, I guess, the harmony of each of us living together in this place.
That sense of being is like magic. It fills the air. If I sit still long enough, it's almost as if I can reach out and grab it. I can feel it moving around me, like a bunch of gigantic bubbles slowly bumping into each other, morphing around me into fat shapes, skinny shapes.
It's God's magic, if "magic" is the right word. Some might call it the "mysteries". Our ancestors certainly knew it was there, and knew it had power.
The afternoon sun sliced through the trees at such an angle that I noticed the colors looked different, muted maybe?, next to the ground.
My mind was wandering, not focusing on any thought, and it was then that I noticed it.
I caught my breath and blinked. My conscious thought flew back, and when I looked again, the color change was gone. It could have been my imagination, but I don't think so.
I like a world with magic. It's a world with possibility. God's little secret he is willing to share with those with the faith and patience to look and find.
I've got the patience, and the time. My daughter, Delilah Rose, a junior at Southwestern University. Following her just this year, her younger brother, Rob. I had the place to myself, or so I like to tell myself.
The glass of tea I made was beginning to sweat. It was warm and the air was full of flying insects looking for something to pollinate.
I love it in the country. It is so easy to see the presence of God everywhere. The play of the wind across the trees making the leaves rustle and the wind chimes tinkle. Birds singing to each other, and the butterflies - lots of butterflies - diving in and out of the grass.
This quiet time is my sanctuary. My time with God. My time to feel whole again and ease that emptiness I carried with me.
God is my refuge. Even in the silence of the afternoon there is a knowing, a sense of being, that comes only from the peace given freely and willingly from Him.
Hank, my old German Shepard, came panting up onto the porch and threw himself down on the cool cement. The cats began to find me, too. I have six - not by my choice, but theirs. Each one turned up on their own. Maybe they sense the peace here.
I love watching the cats and dog interact. It's like a little animal sit com. And they are always so quiet. They don't want to break the peace either, I guess, the harmony of each of us living together in this place.
That sense of being is like magic. It fills the air. If I sit still long enough, it's almost as if I can reach out and grab it. I can feel it moving around me, like a bunch of gigantic bubbles slowly bumping into each other, morphing around me into fat shapes, skinny shapes.
It's God's magic, if "magic" is the right word. Some might call it the "mysteries". Our ancestors certainly knew it was there, and knew it had power.
The afternoon sun sliced through the trees at such an angle that I noticed the colors looked different, muted maybe?, next to the ground.
My mind was wandering, not focusing on any thought, and it was then that I noticed it.
I caught my breath and blinked. My conscious thought flew back, and when I looked again, the color change was gone. It could have been my imagination, but I don't think so.
I like a world with magic. It's a world with possibility. God's little secret he is willing to share with those with the faith and patience to look and find.
I've got the patience, and the time. My daughter, Delilah Rose, a junior at Southwestern University. Following her just this year, her younger brother, Rob. I had the place to myself, or so I like to tell myself.
Beginning
I sit at my table in my bright sunflower yellow kitchen sipping hot coffee. My cup is one of three decorated with owls given to me by my closest friends. This particular cup is a piece of pottery shaped exactly like an owl. I feel like I'm drinking in his thoughts as I slowly sip the steaming bitter brew.
The house is quiet, the window is open and a slight breeze is blowing in a bird's song. A happy sound, yet I feel inexplicably melancholy as I listen. In the distance I can hear the roar of the highway; not too bad, but it does let me know I am not really "out in the country." I think of all the possibilities for today and wonder which one I will choose, or which will choose me.
During these quiet times I feel connected to something other than myself, my family and those friends closest to me. I just can't learn or figure out how to still my thoughts long enough to make actual contact. My mother would tell me its because I am a double Gemini with Libra rising and my ruling planet is Mercury. I like the way that sounds, but honestly, I'm not sure what it means. I believe in simplest terms, I find it hard to focus. Sometimes I feel like something is keeping me from my eventual epiphany, but that's just nonsense.
I let the thoughts chase each other as I watch Willard, my older tomcat, limp past meowing for attention. As I lean to scratch behind his ears, I notice a wound. He has a chunk of skin missing off his back right leg. He seems fine, but for the small area of exposed muscle. I wonder what happened. No visible bite marks or tears are present; he does not seem to be in any pain. As he crouches down to eat, determined to have every bite of food in the bowl, I decide to let the wound heal naturally. This isn't the first time he's hurt himself, although it is the third time within two months. Protecting his territory from strays I suppose.
Ebony, my solid black cat has also chosen this minute to say hello. His meow is bold and full and he makes no qualms about letting you know he wants attention. He sits at the foot of my chair and looks up at me expectantly.
"I suppose you want a lift up?" I ask him. "Meow" he answers. Its silly, but he really seems to be asking me to pet him.
I bend down to grab him. I sit up too fast, my vision dimming. Faintly, a voice whispers my name, Rhianna. Ebony startles and leaps out of my grasp. The connection I felt to something magical just moments ago is gone. My spine tingles and I instinctively know that the voice is off, not quite right. My two dogs bark and three teenage girls awake (two are mine). I jerk and the sensation of wrongness leaves me.The spell is broken for now.
The house is quiet, the window is open and a slight breeze is blowing in a bird's song. A happy sound, yet I feel inexplicably melancholy as I listen. In the distance I can hear the roar of the highway; not too bad, but it does let me know I am not really "out in the country." I think of all the possibilities for today and wonder which one I will choose, or which will choose me.
During these quiet times I feel connected to something other than myself, my family and those friends closest to me. I just can't learn or figure out how to still my thoughts long enough to make actual contact. My mother would tell me its because I am a double Gemini with Libra rising and my ruling planet is Mercury. I like the way that sounds, but honestly, I'm not sure what it means. I believe in simplest terms, I find it hard to focus. Sometimes I feel like something is keeping me from my eventual epiphany, but that's just nonsense.
I let the thoughts chase each other as I watch Willard, my older tomcat, limp past meowing for attention. As I lean to scratch behind his ears, I notice a wound. He has a chunk of skin missing off his back right leg. He seems fine, but for the small area of exposed muscle. I wonder what happened. No visible bite marks or tears are present; he does not seem to be in any pain. As he crouches down to eat, determined to have every bite of food in the bowl, I decide to let the wound heal naturally. This isn't the first time he's hurt himself, although it is the third time within two months. Protecting his territory from strays I suppose.
Ebony, my solid black cat has also chosen this minute to say hello. His meow is bold and full and he makes no qualms about letting you know he wants attention. He sits at the foot of my chair and looks up at me expectantly.
"I suppose you want a lift up?" I ask him. "Meow" he answers. Its silly, but he really seems to be asking me to pet him.
I bend down to grab him. I sit up too fast, my vision dimming. Faintly, a voice whispers my name, Rhianna. Ebony startles and leaps out of my grasp. The connection I felt to something magical just moments ago is gone. My spine tingles and I instinctively know that the voice is off, not quite right. My two dogs bark and three teenage girls awake (two are mine). I jerk and the sensation of wrongness leaves me.The spell is broken for now.
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