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Welcome to Ari-Wood. Step right up and see the sights. To your left, you will see the delicate fragility of fairy land. On the right, watch out for the fiery dragons. For your safety, we recommend you stay on the path and don't stray into the netherworlds of risk and chance. Alternatively, perhaps you like the benefits that go along with taking that chance..........
All rights to the poetry and stories in Ari-Wood
belong exclusively to the author.
That which is not mine,
That which is not good,
That which is not altruistic....
Is requested to leave.
******
The stories and poems encased in this crystal blog are written from my own imagination and in no way are intended to be viewed as written to any specific person unless I specifically state that it is.
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My heart is a book which you leaf through as simply as the pages of this blog..
Antiqued an worn
The words bleed
From a hidden place
Deep within my chapters
Where only one can see
And whispering spirits tarry
Frayed are my edges
Yet my gliding
Remains beautiful
Not a mere ornament
But a testament to the tooling
Which has geared my life
Sown tightly is my binding
I have weathered the years
I shine with wisdom an character
Like no other book
Yet my cover bares the marks
Of ordinary use
Turn my pages lightly
And you shall read
My hued memories
Of dreams and dreaminess
Of times and timelessness
Of lives and liveliness
Upon my inner pages
Are scribbled
Achromatic dreams
My love
My hopes
My life
You are such a treasured book
All my love, Sister of my heart
(Written by a special sister of my heart...MsAlchemy2...a special gift...I wanted to share.) |
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The Damn Wasp....
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Oct 4, 2011 11:17 pm
1662 Views
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Hmmm, I'm running on about seven hours of sleep for the week and intending to jump into bed in a few minutes...the operative word being jump...doesn't jumping up and down on the bed sound like it could be fun...or am I experiencing another moment of extreme stupidity? It's kind of how I feel this week.
Nearly done with month end...my forecast and a handful of reports to finish writing. Then just two more budget reports...and I'm off to activity types. I'd like to skip activity types this year, thank you very much. Fortunately, I got my assistant back. My boss has been talking to me about a company he'd like me to take over the accounting for...and it would be both a promotion and a tremendous challenge, while not forcing me to move just yet (a good thing in a somewhat depressed housing market).
My assistant is slowly being mentored so that when I give up my current job (which I will be phasing out over the next year or so), she will be able to step into it. It's a good plan and I'm excited about the opportunity to build my next position from the very ground floor. That's probably my greatest strength and what I love to do best...to build the position into what it can be, design the systems and procedures, and get everything working right...and then I get bored. But, it usually takes me two to four years to get bored...and by then maybe they'll have another new project for me to take over. I can hope.
I prolly wouldn't be up this late, but my sis is interviewing for an Administrative Assistant position at the company tomorrow and she really, really sucks at selling herself so I spent a long time building up her confidence and walking her through what our interview questions are like. When she'd give me a really good answer, I'd spend a fair bit of time telling her why it was better than any other answer and explaining what it means to sell yourself.
Remember my wasp from the other day? The one I sucked into the vacuum cleaner? Well tonight I dumped the canister and guess what was still alive and mad as fire? I have to tell you, I totally freaked when it flew out of the trash can...and my sis laughed her hiney off as I shrieked and ran like heck. She actually caught it and disposed of it for me...after it got stuck on my innocent cat who kept trying to twist around backwards and get it off him. I told you they don't die, Chelle...and now I have the proof...oh God that makes me sick to think of all the great big honking spiders I've caught that way...they probably escaped and moved back down to spider city.
Except...a friend of mine sent her husband over one day and he closed off spider city so now I don't have to look at all the cobwebby things stuck in there. Crawl spaces should be outlawed. Blech.
Anyway, I'm going to jump off the edge of the world and catch some sleep before I lose what little is left of my sanity. And just so you know, you have once again been subjected to an Arre ramble.
Love and hugs....
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Learning about s.e.x.
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Sep 29, 2011 9:28 pm
2665 Views
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I was listening to a cd about....well...okay...it was about s.e.x.  I know, I have no business listening to that kind of stuff when I don't get to fool around with it.... Anyway, and keeping in mind that I didn't get to hear the whole thing cause I kept backing it up to listen again, I learned lots of new things.
Did you know it is the "female's" job to keep s.e.x. interesting? If s.e.x. is getting boring, the woman is falling down on the job.  Really? The guy doesn't have to do anything but lay there and wait for the woman to make it interesting? We are supposed to get wilder and/or learn new things if our partner is not finding it sufficiently fascinating.  Okay, having heard that, I wanted to know what the "male's" job was. Let me guess, he gets to take a nap cause he sure as heck doesn't have to make it interesting....
Turns out it is the man's job to provide depth to the task.  Huh...I'm thinking about that one. Really? I totally would never have gotten that. He is supposed to be sensitive to his partner's needs and ensure that she is taken to a place where she "swoons" with pleasure. Can someone tell me where that place is cause I'm pretty sure I've never been there?
Now, I guess my question is this...if he's supposed to take me somewhere that will make me swoon because I've never been there before, doesn't he need to be making it interesting?
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There is no escape....
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Sep 28, 2011 8:45 pm
2030 Views
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You know, I don't do bugs. I'm not afraid of a lot, heights..and bugs. I don't like a lot of spray stuff in my house, I'm allergic to perfumes and chemicals (probably the same thing in both, right?), so when I come across a bug, I get the trusty Dirt Devil out and suck that puppy up. This is what happens when you try to share my house. Get permission first.
I've told Chelle that...at least when I suck them into the vacuum, they have a small chance to survive (not that I really want them to, but I don't want to have to admit I might have killed an innocent, icky bug). She disagrees with me and says I'm pretty much condemning them to death.
Here's where it gets tricky. I so firmly believe they might actually still be alive, I won't dump the vacuum out until it's been days so I don't have to worry about the big a$$ spider I sucked up in there. I'm also inclined to watch the end of the Dirt Devil to make sure it doesn't escape. Okay, I really want the thing dead. Well...if I suck it into the Dyson, it's okay to empty the canister cause I don't have to touch the stuff inside and that means the spider can't get me. You have to keep in mind that we have brown recluse and hobos here. I am an equal opportunity sucker upper and don't try to identify the spider, I just suck that doohickey right up.
Well, tonight I found a wasp in my kitchen. I do have chemicals...which I'll use outside if I need to eliminate a wasp nest...although I typically wait until all the wasps are gone and take down their nest....but I don't want to use those chemicals in my house where I have to inhale them. So now you have to close your eyes and visualize.
The Dirt Devil is a small one with a nozzle end so I can get it in corners and crevices. Works great on fans and curtains and stuff. I'm talking on the phone with my sister and just fascinated by this crazy wasp which somehow got in my house, into the kitchen, and is beating itself to death on my kitchen light. (See, this is a mercy thing.) I can't seem to take my eyes off it. When we get off the phone, I hurry up and grab the Dirt Devil.
Now I have to figure out where to plug it in. All the outlets are on the other side of the wasp and the cord's too short to plug in to the dining room. I watch carefully for the wasp to be at the far end of the light and duck and run under it...not like there's any room to run...you have to visualize my running in about eight feet of space. I plugged the Dirt Devil in and whipped around to make sure the horrible wasp hadn't snuck up behind me. (Stop laughing, this is serious work.)
Nope, he's still busy going back and forth along the light fixture. So now I have to figure out how to get him sucked into the Dirt Devil. Not that the thing is heavy, but every time I get it close to the wasp, the thing seems to dart right at me and go around and around me. I keep trying to get the nozzle close enough and it seems to know what I'm doing. I never knew wasps could be so smart. And people wonder how I manage to get a concussion every year....
Finally....I get close and "swoop"...the thing is sucked in. Only now I have to wonder if it can get back out the end of the nozzle so I keep vacuuming up any tiny scrap of loose dog food on the floor...oh yeah, there's a small plant leaf...and a wee bit of spider web...and there's a tiny scrap of paper. I even vacuumed part of the dining room to make sure it was definitely all the way at the other end of the nozzle.
Okay, good, now I can turn it off and unplug the silly Dirt Devil. Have you ever seen a woman spend half the night watching a vacuum cleaner? I'm so totally freaked that it might escape....
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Fear
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Sep 27, 2011 10:05 pm
1931 Views
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I keep thinking things are going to slow down, but they don't. Still tied up with budgets only now I'm working on reports for three different plants, fortunately only the full budget for one, but the reports I'm doing are complicated and each plant calculates data differently since they all manufacture different products. Add to that a change in mine site which leads to ending the reporting on one (and making sure its been done accurately) and initiating another...and I'll tie all this up just in time to start activity types for four different plants. Somewhere I must have had stupid printed across my forehead. Otherwise I must be a glutton for punishment. I have to remember, next year when my performance eval comes up...NOT to say I'm bored and need more work. Dork.
However, I need to stop working nights so I can get back to my schoolwork. Just let me finish in one piece and I will suddenly have lots of time to spare. Well, for a little while. It's all good...I have no time to think about loneliness, things I miss, things I wish I could have. That's a great thing cause I hate it when I whine.
So...y'alls staying busy? Come on...what are the cool things you do to keep yourself from going stir crazy?
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I didn't see the sun set for my mind was focused on all you bring to my life. The thought of laughter shared or the intimacy of reading aloud to one another from a book makes me smile wistfully. It doesn't matter that this is not here at this moment in time, only that it will come. I believe that. I always have.
The starlight danced along the spray of water arching across the lawn. I watched it, wondering if the staccato patter of the drops upon my skin would bring the same sensuality as fingers tracing delicate patterns over the sensitive skin of my back. It's funny where our thoughts go as we muse upon the elements of life we've most withheld from ourselves. I've rejected most touches for some time now...a difficult task for one who thrives on human contact, on the feeling of fingers twined, the warmth of an unexpected hug, the taste of a lover's kiss. Perhaps it was a way to punish myself.
Still, as we close ourselves off from emotion, we find that too much of life is filled with it. How can you appreciate beautiful music if you do not dare feel the emotion within it? How do you look at a butterfly with the joyful abandon of its flight if you do not allow yourself to live that joyful abandon? How do you live...if you close yourself off from life? I wanted to view the world...without the risk of experiencing it.
And now...who can tell? I begin to feel...but oh God, I am so afraid of feeling...I am so afraid of the pain...and I feel like such a coward. I remember words spoken to me some time ago and want to cry them to the sky, "Please, don't hurt me."
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Question #9
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Sep 26, 2011 10:34 pm
2187 Views
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If you were asked to teach, or take, a class, what would it be about?
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23
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Mixed Bag
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Sep 26, 2011 10:13 pm
1871 Views
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I went to the grocery store tonight and as I was leaving, this little old lady walked by me. I smiled...I always try to smile. It was funny. She turned around and called after me, "You have the sweetest smile!" It made me laugh.
I thanked her, but as I did I was thinking of Chelle who must have taken 200 pictures of me while she was here. We'd gone to Hooper Springs...a naturally carbonated spring in the area...and there is a small enclosure, similar to a gazebo but made of stone with wood rafters where the spring originates. I sat on the stone ledge, leaning against a stone pillar and Chelle kept calling out instructions..."Look at me." "Look up." "Go sit on the seat." Whatever. Like I ever obey.
Anyway, we got to laughing about my regular declaration of innocence. She snapped a picture, looked at it, and commented that it was the most mischievious innocence she'd ever seen. Personally, I think it's all in the eyes. The smile is innocent...the eyes give it all away...but you'll have to ask her and no, she isn't allowed to share the pictures until I've seen them.
Sweet smile, my patootie...
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My sis called me today, mad as a spitball laced with jumping beans. She is a temporary employee at the company I work for. A few weeks ago, we hired seven temps to permanent status. My sis had applied for the job. Interesting, fifteen applicants, seven people got hired, none of them women although three applicants were women...in an industry that's painfully low on female hires. Whatever.
When they let her know that she wasn't selected, they told her that one temp from her area had been, but it wasn't her. Not a huge deal except that one of the aoplicants from her area has the worst work ethic I've ever seen. My sis called that day and asked, "So who got hired from my area?" She was hoping it wasn't the one who sleeps four hours out of every twelve hour shift. Wouldn't that make you feel bad if you were rejected for someone like that?
"Who do you think got hired?"
"Jack?"
Silence.
"Well, as much as I wanted the job, I'm glad Jack got it. He needs the insurance."
"What do you mean?"
"His wife needs surgery and so does he."
"So, we hired someone so they could turn right around and take time off for surgery? Hmmm. That'll go over well."
Not my problem, not my place to address it. They can figure that out when his insurance is activated. Anyway, she was telling me she thought she'd done well in the interview. Actually, I knew she had because my friend Michelle is our HR Specialist. Michelle had told me that my sis did a terrific job but that the hiring managers had decided that Jack had more experience. Of course, fifteen years as the head custodian and maintenance person at the local high school is my sister's background. It's not as if she couldn't do the job and do it extremely well, but it's not my decision.
All I said is, "Michelle told me that they selected him because they felt he had the best experience."
And my sis agreed that he probably did. It was the end of the discussion. Of course, the part few people other than those who work with him know yet is that the guy is a hothead who screams at his co-workers, cusses and throws tools when things aren't going his way, and uses our equipment at excessive speed. I've heard that from his entire crew.
Today, the cretin jumped all over my sis demanding to know why she was so jealous over his getting the job that she asked me to "investigate" why he got the job over her. She never asked me to investigate or to even ask. In fact, when they made the decisions, Michelle came and told me what had happened. It's not like it's top secret. And she could have asked Michelle, and Michelle would have given her the same answer.
My sis was floored and said, "Jack, I'm not jealous that you got the job, I'm happy for you." To be honest, that's exactly the person my sister is.
"Well you got your sister to dig into my personal information to find out why you didn't get the job."
Like I even have access to his personal information. Would that be the part where he told another co-worker he'd been in prison for twelve years? Not that I think he was, it would have shown up on his background check. But the point is, I don't have to ask, people tell me just about everything. Don't know why, they just do.
"Why would you think that? Let me tell you something, Jack. I would never ask my sister to do that. I wouldn't take the risk of it jeopardizing her job. And if I did ask her, she wouldn't do it. Do you really think she'd risk a career she's worked years for over your piddly little job? And do you really think Michelle would risk hers? What's wrong with you?"
"Well...so-and-so said."
"And they work up here, not in the offices. How the hell would they know?"
I was pretty mad at this point. You know, it's a stupid ass argument that gives this creep one more opportunity to treat my sister badly. It's not a subject I've discussed with Michelle. I figure when Ronda's had enough, she'll address it. Right now, the guy is busy screaming all over the company that my sister wants his job and is out to make him look bad. From my perspective, when he comes down to the plant, he'll manage that all by himself.
Guess I should hope, for his sake, that he and his wife get their surgeries before he gets fired for his temper tantrums....
As for me, I've now vented and I can let go of the irritation. Isn't he lucky? I could have driven up to the mine and snapped his aggravating head off. I could have addressed the issue with HR. He's so not worth the effort.
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With Love
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Sep 25, 2011 9:41 pm
1929 Views
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It is the softest tug on the line binding you to me, yet it draws me as a magnet gathers tiny shavings of metal. You are the tide drawing me further from shore and yet, there is no fear nor threat for you hold me bouyant in depths beyond my comprehension. I long to see your face, feel your touch, to know the parts of me as yet untouched by you, although...where you have touched, I am altered into something more beautiful than the music of rivers, more pristine than the deepest ice, more eternal than the universe.
The filtered light of stars who's light was given millions of years ago gives me pause as I consider all that is wondrous in my life, and even those things one would not wish upon an enemy become glowing symbols of possibility. Strange words, stranger thoughts, and as they trickle through my mind, I recognize that it was a gift given to find beauty even in the midst of pain. Not a recognition any would hope to find, still in the discovery, one becomes open to greater depths of love.
How I have loved. The words define the essence of the person I long most to be. I have loved. There is no need within those words to feel the love returned, only to express the emotion as a water color gently brushed over all who touch my life. I have not done it well, for still I know the emotion of anger and resentment, try though I might to let those feelings wash away from me. I improve, tiny millimeters at a time, only to slip back into the same patterns, wondering why it is so difficult to love those who bring us pain.
Words heard in passing spark my spirit as I strive to assimilate them, "There are no justifiable resentments." A lovely dream, but is it realistic? How can we relinquish all resentment from our lives? Still, in the corner of a soul battered by life, there is a tendril of understanding that by allowing resentment to garner a fingerhold on my heart is to open myself to a cessation of loving, to admit that I can be altered by the impact of others. I do not so choose, thus increased admonishment and effort...
"There are no justifiable resentments." What I resent, what angers me, becomes an arrow shot around the world and back into my own soul. I damage myself far more than any other...and it is a path I will have chosen for myself. If I can forgive those who harmed me most deeply, why is it so difficult to forgive those who harm me in a transitory manner? What right have I to expect that others view the world through my eyes? How can I hold my head up if I do not allow each the freedom to express themselves in their own fashion, even if the expression brings pain to me?
And so I let it go. Those last vestiges of frustration, pain, anger, I let it go. Take it from me that I may be free to be the soul I am meant to be. Let me release my need for love and remember that in loving, one becomes an element of the emotion and love is granted even if it is never given in the manner of our choosing. I do not need your love to be worthy of love. In the end, isn't it my perception...and my God's...that matters?
I remember...all that I forgot...all that I remember...all that I once hoped for...all that I once dreamed of...and all that I have become because of those memories. I remember...with love.
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5
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Inside the Tower, Part 8
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Sep 23, 2011 12:11 am
1935 Views
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“There was nothing special around the tower, no flowers, no people, nothing that stood out except this very tall tower of weather worn stone. There were a series of windows around the top of the tower but none along the walls climbing up it. In front, there was a huge wooden door supported my massive hinges which looked as if they had been made centuries ago…but then again, who am I to judge? I walked around the tower and found no other entrances.
Returning to the door, I knocked but was well aware that my pitiful knocking could not be heard more than a few feet beyond the door. Grasping the curved iron handle, I pulled it open. It moved with surprising ease and soon I found myself standing within the tower. The door was left open for there would have been no light inside had it closed. The base was little more than a landing for a staircase which began right in front of me and ascended past my sight. I was surprised to find that there was nothing else.
There were no rooms, no people, no colors but the stark dark gray of the rock. There were no windows and no lights, nor even any sconces. There was no fireplace to warm the stone and the tower contained an almost shockingly chill air, but there was no sense of fear or threat from it. Still, I was nervous. Who knew what lived at the top of the tower? Actually, who knew why it had even been built? Why was it strangely located in the middle of nowhere with no sign of life and no indication that there was even space for a person to live in?
It was a choice and I wasn’t sure I wanted to make it, climb or leave. I didn’t know if there were any threats about the tower, but I also wanted to understand its purpose. Who had built it and why? Of course, my curiosity overcame my caution and I began to climb the stairs. It was rather like climbing a lighthouse and felt as if it took just as long. Well before I reached the top, my legs were exhausted and I wished I’d never begun the climb. By then I was high enough that I wasn’t willing to back up and give up my quest.
Finally, I reached the top. The stairs opened up on a wide empty room. Can you imagine my disappointment when I realized I’d climbed that whole monstrous tower for absolutely nothing? There were five windows circling the room, but nothing else. I sat down on the top stair and wished I could cry. What a waste of effort it had been. I knew what was left was to climb back down and go home, but I was so tired. I moved to the center of the room, well clear of the stairs, and laid down nestling the sweater I had carried in case it got cool under my head and there I slept.
I can’t tell you how long I slept but I when I awoke the tower was brightly lit. There were no lights within the room, but plenty of light shone through the windows. Getting up, I walked to the first one to look out over the mountain but nearly gave myself a neck injury when I realized that I could see people through the window. Some of them were friends of mine, some were people I’d never met before, but there were many people all standing around as if at a garden party. They beckoned to me and I nearly moved forward before I remembered I was standing at a window high above the ground.
My curiosity picqued, I moved to the second window and found my family sitting around a warm fireplace talking to one another. There was laughter and a real sensation of closeness and affection in the scene. My mother called my name and smiled and I so badly wanted to go to her, but knew I’d probably be stepping out into nothingness. It was interesting that the windows were large enough for a person to step through, and more interesting that I was viewing these scenes in a participatory manner. There was no reference point to allow me to make sense of it, I’d never had a similar experience and couldn’t begin to explain it.
The third window looked out on my home. It was a view of my living room with all of the animals curled up on various chairs. The dogs barked at me in greeting and ran to jump up on me but seemed to be stopped by some barrier at the window’s limit. I reached out to pet them and actually felt fur under my hand, but the dog didn’t seem to be able to move through the window to me no matter how much I encouraged her.
Unwilling to think about the implications until I’d explored all the windows, I moved on to the fourth. This one looked into the front office of the company I work at. Everyone I know was there, and it was rather crowded as they teased me gently and asked why I was waiting to choose. I didn’t know what that meant, and certainly didn’t understand how any of this could be possible. For a moment I thought I was still asleep so I jumped up and felt my feet hit the ground. Pinching myself, I realized I could feel pain so must be awake, but how was any of this possible?
I realized that each window had shown me a view of the people, places, and things that are important to me, but I wasn’t sure of the relevance. Why was I seeing these things? What was I supposed to do? And if I were to make a choice, what choice and what would it mean? How did I make a choice? Realizing that there was still one window to peer through, I slowly moved around the room (which was really only a few steps) and turned to face the opening.
In a very simple but elegant room filled with books was a man. He looked up from the book he was reading and smiled at me but said nothing. Dark hair rumpled from fingers running through it, he was dressed all in black. His eyes lit warmly on me and I felt a blush rise from my waist as I knew his thoughts were lingering on a memory. As before, I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out for him, to step through the window and nestle against him.
I backed away from the windows into the center of the room and stood there wondering how any of this could be possible. As I looked from window to window, I heard a voice. ‘Choose.’
‘Choose what?’
‘Choose the life you would lead?’
‘Why? I have most of these things already.’
‘Choose.’
‘I’m not sure what I am supposed to choose.’
‘Choose the definition of yourself.’
‘What definition?’
‘You know.’
And I did. I was being asked to choose what was important to me, what aspects of my life most defined me. Was I defined by my friends, my family, my home, my work, or my love? Who was I and where did I fit in to my own world? I knew that I would step through a window and my life would center where I landed. Interestingly, I wanted to choose all the windows for each aspect of my life was a part of who I am. I looked from window to window attempting to decide…and thought carefully about all that is important to me. We are, none of us, meant to be alone, but our work adds value to our lives and our homes are the place we create to offer succor when life hurts.”
“So, what did you decide?”
“What would you decide?”
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Walking through the woods, Part 7
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Sep 22, 2011 11:49 pm
1789 Views
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“What made you decide to take a walk?”
“There are two ways I work through my problems. One is to write them out until the answer seems to just jump from my fingers to the page…and often from somewhere I totally don’t understand to my fingers. The other is to find a beautiful place and walk, preferably listening to the whispers of water.”
“I knew you loved the water, but why is it special to you?”
“It seems to speak to me. When it washes over any part of my body, it soothes away anything troubling me, but more, in its voice I hear ageless voices talking to me of all I do not know.”
“I don’t think I understand that.”
“I don’t know if I can explain it better. Have you ever sat beside a stream and just listened to the ripples of the water as it spills over rocks and against the bank?”
“Sure.”
“Have you ever felt like the sounds it makes are words but you just don’t quite understand them?”
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
“I have. And in time, as I listen to the murmuring, I can make out the faintest traces of where the water has been and all that it has seen.”
“Okay, personally I think that’s a little far out, but I’ll accept that it’s your way of doing things. Everyone knows you’re a little different.”
“Thank you. I try to be. If we were all alike, we’d never find any truth because we’d all accept the same answers without questioning. At any rate, I went up into the mountains and found a beautiful stream. It spoke softly but from the motion, I was sure that somewhere up ahead would be a place of activity and I was interested in hearing the voices in that location.
I’d chosen a lovely day to walk. The sky was such a vivid blue that the clouds appeared to be painted on a background and strange shadows filtered behind them. The trees sheltered me from the worst heat of the sun and there was a tepid breeze blowing my hair around my shoulders. I always love that feeling.
As I walked along the stream, my mind was consumed with thoughts of each of the dreams I’d had. I thought I had worked through the meanings but it seemed they were interconnected and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Was there a message for me or was it merely chance that the dreams had similar topics? I don’t much believe in chance so I needed to understand the underlying concept and how it applied in my life. That’s what I do with most ideas that sit in the back of my mind and torment me, I play with them until they suddenly make sense and I can put them to use in my world.”
“You overthink life and make yourself crazy.”
“Same thing. I’m not sure how long I walked. I wasn’t wearing a watch and completely lost track of time. It wasn’t as if I had a schedule or needed to be anywhere, so I just kept walking as I waited for the answers to drop into place.”
“Did you find the answers?”
“No, I found something much stranger. At some point, the stream turned in a direction I did not want to follow and I crossed it. There was a momentary impression of something shifting, as if the world had taken a step and I had missed it. It felt as if I had changed focus. I was excited, thinking that my answer would filter through my subconscious but that did not happen. Instead, as I stepped through the next cluster of trees, I found myself standing in front of a tower.”
“You were walking around here?”
“About ten miles from here.”
“There are no towers in the area.”
“I’m well aware of that but I swear I found a tower.”
“Are you teasing me?”
“Would I have carried the story on this long just to tease you?”
“Maybe.”
“Only if I’d been yanking your chain from the beginning. Has it really sounded like a prank?”
“No, I’ll give you that, but I’ve been all over these mountains and there are no towers.”
“I know.”
“So?”
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