I thought I would shoot out a quick post as it’s been a few days since you last heard from me. The reason for that is because of another bout of neck pain that decided to pay me a visit last week. I’ve come to realize that although I have dealt with a lot of stress in my life, I don’t always come away from it unscathed. Being a little more stressed these past few weeks as found me once again battling with another pain in the Ash that thankfully, as since passed. To help with the pain, I took some time away from the computer or any screen really so as to not make it any worse. I just decided to go full-on rehab and concentrated on the gym, did some daily stretching, threw in some yoga and it seemed to work. The pain slowly went away just as it did a couple of years ago, only this time it was much quicker as I used a lot of what I learned the first time around. But, I’m back, feeling good, and ready to crank out some entries that I have been hoarding. I have another Red Journal set to come out which I hope you’re still enjoying, I also have a few award replies that I most certainly have to get posted, and I do have some other ideas that are still sitting dormant in my draft folder. I’m hoping to get a few of those I’ve just mentioned out this weekend, so bare with me folks. As always, I appreciate the patience.
(Shortly after the briefing, Ethan and Sarah find themselves downtown at the bar, The Keep, the victims last known whereabouts and the potential for video evidence. As they slowly exit their vehicle, a homeless man suddenly appears from the alley motioning toward the door.)
Friday, 9:46 A.M.
The bar, it’s closed. Not open yet, doesn’t til six. It’s written right there on that sign.
Right, thanks for pointing that out. Listen, I’m Det. Frost and this is Det. Wilson. Jamestown Police Department. Tell me…ah, is that yours? Around the corner over there? Do you live in those boxes by the dumpster?
Sure, the memories But, the smell, the taste, the touch, All still left to make believe I miss… The very start Opening characters, scene one Greener grass, the bluest skies, salty ocean That street light at night where I would measure my shadow to the tip of the moon Those flaked fences, white A particular damp night sky that I loved and haven’t smelt in a long, long time Tipped-toed curbs, run past the shop Yes, my eyes could go blind and I would still make it anyway Follow the path by memory alone…to my home Grab a bunch of those crazy flowers along the way But now, I can only recount because tomorrow had to come and now strangers walk about like I was never even there
Seriously! Four days? It really took them…never mind. They’re idiots. Remember, they’re all incompetent fools. One brutal headache after the other, I waited. All that time waiting around to see my glorious work, displayed for the fine people of Jamestown and the story gets barely ninety seconds of airtime. They didn’t even show the good parts, well…his parts.