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Saturday, October 27, 2007

The Brownstone (fictional story) page 5 of 5

As I looked around the room I noticed the people who had been sitting outside on the front steps who I thought I had known for years even though they acted as if they had just met me that morning, I also noticed family and friends that I knew, I knew but yet my friends looked different. My friends looked like they should be the ones that I had to walk through on the steps. As I started to mingle with everyone, I started feeling as if I was returning home rather than having just buying the house. As the party went on I felt as if it was good to be home and that it had been a long time since I had seen the old house which as good, if not better then when I left.
After the party was over and the staff settled in for the night with the exception of the guy I sat there in the living room in front of the mantle piece with the guy he welcomed me home and said it has been a long time since I had left that he was truly grateful that I had returned home because all he could do was wait for my return so he would have someone to care for and looked forward to taking care of my children and my children’s children. With that I nodded off to sleep and as I was almost sleeping I could hear the guy talking to himself and thanking the house almost mumbling under his breath trying not to wake me and to keep me from hearing him say it.

the end

The Brownston (fictional story) page 4 of 5

These people when I walked up to them felt like old friends like I had them as friends since childhood but yet I could tell that they didn’t see me the same way but yet they were sitting at what I thought was my favorite hang out place. When I came up to the group of people one of the people could see that I was perplexed and asked what was wrong, before I got the nerve to respond a guy, the guy came out of the front door and walked down the front steps through the people and said he was glad to see that I could make it today so that way we could finalize the purchase of the brownstone which perplexed me even more.

Even though I was perplexed by the fact that I was buying what I remembered to be an abandoned house I felt as though I remembered going through the whole process of buying the house but could not come up with a single specific memory relating to the whole thing. When I was directed to the front door I started walking and felt a foreboding shutter go right through my body making me want to run but I kept walking to do something that I didn’t know that I was doing until that very moment. As the guy opened up the door I felt as if there was nothing there behind me but darkness but when I turned around I could still see the people just sitting there.

As I passed through the doorway I could see a doorway at the far end of the living room a sizable living room with the closest piece of furniture that looked like it was someone’s attempt of combining two different classic pieces of furniture. This piece of furniture looked like it was suppose to be a telephone table but instead of a chair attachment it was a loveseat with a table at either end. As I got a better look around the other pieces of furniture didn’t stand out but what did stand out was the various indistinct paintings and pictures on the wall that went from the front door to the doorway on the other side of the living room. The largest painting was hanging over a mantle piece and the people in it seemed distorted.

The guy directed me to a table and chairs that somehow appeared out of nowhere since I didn’t see them there when I walked in and didn’t see anyone bring them in. As I walked over to the table I noticed that even though the living room was well lit there appeared to be no light fixtures anywhere in the room and noticed that there seemed to be a spot on the floor that seemed strangely out of place for the house but yet it was in a place where I felt there should be a dark hole in the floor but yet it just seemed like a dark spot in the floor. I asked what had happened there and the guy just said that the people who had been living there had problems there.

I started to walk over there and half expected the guy to stop me but he didn’t and it was a solid floor when I stepped on it. When I walked over to the guy who was already sitting down at the table with the paperwork out ready for me to look over and sign. While we were going over the paperwork the guy was telling me that the house came with its own staff for which I could keep or replace if I chose but he thought I should get to know the people who worked there before making my decision. After the paperwork was looked over and signed things slowly started to change as the guy got up and said that he would inform the staff that they had a new owner which struck me as very odd.

As he got up and walked through the doorway opposite the front door, I got up and started walking around looking at the paintings and the pictures and noticed that they were now very distinctive with memories I had from childhood that almost seemed to come to life while looking at the pictures and remembered what had transpired on those days. Some of the pictures were of things that I seem to remember that no one had a camera with them but yet there were pictures on the wall. The paintings including the large one over the mantle piece had come into focus with the one over the mantle piece being myself and looking as if it was an old painting but yet new at the same time.

By the time the guy returned he was somehow different yet was still the same person. He was no longer acting as if he was a realtor but rather a butler who had been working for him for a great many years. It felt comfortable to treat him as an old friend but yet as an employee at the same time. With the slightest of gestures he motioned me to the doorway for which I seemed to remember being darkened and felt as though I wasn’t permitted to go through. I walked up to it, nothing happened and as I walked through it the lights came on and a room full of people yelled out welcome home.

The Brownstone (fictional story) page 3 of 5

The guy said “it’s the house trying to keep you out of that doorway you keep wanting to look into because it knows the servants have not readied it for you” which answered part of the question but not all of it. When asked about why it was leading to the abyss he simply said “anyway to keep you from looking” at the same time I realized I was going to go nowhere with the line of questioning I decided to check out a theory that I was developing and started just glancing at the pictures and oil paintings while picking up my pace towards the abyss.

The guy asked me “what is going on, do you really want to be by that hole?” but would not tell me why he was asking and was getting fearful of what I was doing. As I got closer to the abyss the further the guy got from me because he feared the abyss but still would not tell me why he was so fearful of it. As I glanced at the pictures while working my way over to the abyss I noticed that this stranger of a guy was actually in some of the pictures with my family and it looked like he was a caretaker of some sort in them. After I got to with in a few feet of the abyss the guy was talking more to himself than to me because all he could do was mumble about something, something he didn’t want me to hear.

What he was mumbling was barely audible to me and even though he was mumbling to himself what he was saying was somewhat disturbing, he was talking as if he was questioning why I was heading to the abyss while at the same time questioning the house as to why it was letting me walk up to the abyss but not let me see what was in the next room. With in a few minutes he was frightened by the fact that I was so close to the edge of the abyss, saying he did his best to stop me from going where I wasn’t wanted which sounded like he was telling this to the house.

Then he said that he didn’t want me to find out what was in the abyss because it would mean it would he would have to leave the house his master to bring me back. He was genuinely afraid of me being there at the edge of the abyss and by the time I was trying to look down into the abyss he was curled up in a ball rocking back and forth mumbling out loud but to himself that he didn’t want to go and that it wasn’t right that the house let me look because he didn’t want me to see what was in the abyss. He didn’t want me to be able to see that it was the way out of the house, a way home, and a way to the home I knew, the home I actually remembered and not this place that seemed so foreign to me.

When I tried to turn and walk over to him I turned into what felt like a brick wall for which I bounced off of right into the abyss, and as I fell backwards into the abyss time seemed to move real slow and seen the guy get up and try to rush over to the abyss to catch me but he was moving just as slowly as the time was. The last thing I seen before all went black from the abyss was the guy being hit with an invisible force that sent him flying, flying right for the darkened doorway that the house was trying to keep me from peering into. With that all went black and it felt like I was falling into nothingness and then there was nothing almost like the state between dreaming and being awake.

The next thing I remember I was woken up by my alarm clock which was odd since I didn’t remember ever going home let alone setting my alarm clock and going to bed. When I tried to remember what had happened the day before that would have me black out like that all I could remember was sitting on the front steps of the old abandoned brownstone with some friends. When I got up and got dressed, things were as I remembered them but yet they were somehow different almost as if there were subtle changes to the details that I could not put my finger on.

As I went through my normal weekend routine I noticed more subtle changes in different places but the biggest differences were in recognizing certain people I knew almost like it was the first time I ever seen them. I had gotten the surprise of my life when I walked up to my favorite hang out which was the front steps of the old abandoned brownstone, instead of the brownstone looking like it was long since abandoned it looked brand new and a few people were there that I recognized as people I somehow knew but I didn’t know why. They were people I recognized from what seemed like a dream from the night before, a dream for which I seen them as friends all except for one.

The Brownstone (fictional story) page 2 of 5

As he welcomed me I could not help but wonder what was going on and asked “I thought I was not welcome here”. After giving a bewildered look for a few moments the guy said “you were not welcome here together as a group” for which there was bewilderment from the guy who then said “it has been a long time since you left and we were trying to make sure everything was perfect for your return”. As I stood there bewildered he sensed that I didn’t know what he was talking about but struggled to find the words to give an adequate explanation.

After a few agonizing minutes which seemed like hours he asked “do you remember who I am” then looked lost as I just shook my head in response unable to find the words a few moments later I mustered enough to ask “what happened to all of my friend that I was in there with” for which he said “those were not friends they were people who have worked here that had to go looking for you and bring you home”. As the guy tried to ease the feelings I had the house was slowly starting to spruce itself up almost like there were invisible workers cleaning up and polishing where needed, then the bed disappeared and in its place was an old bench that was more of an elongated telephone table.

As I looked around the living room more details came into light that were not there before including old turn of the century pictures and old oil paintings. Of the oil paintings the largest one the closest one which now hung over the mantle piece was a large one that had me in it but it wasn’t me. The painting has what looked like my great grandparents but a lot younger than I remembered but it also had others in the painting as well people who looked like I should know them but yet unable to recognize them.

As the old turn of the century pictures came into focus I walked up to get a closer look at them and there were some that were even older. They were so old that you could tell that they were taken when photography was still relatively new but yet there I was again even younger with the people who looked like my great grandparents and this time there were other people there that looked like they could be the parents of my great grandparents all of who looked really young. As I looked at the pictures and paintings on the walls, the guy came out and said “this house is yours, it is your birthright, it is your home and it is calling you home for it misses you dearly”.

While looking at the pictures I started remembering some of the moments in the pictures but they didn’t seem like they happened ages ago but rather a few years ago and the memories started coming back like those moments happened just yesterday. As I moved on to the oil paintings other than the one over the mantle piece none of the paintings looked familiar with the exception of one for which the guy told me that I had painted myself. As we moved along I was trying to make my way to the darkened doorway that even with all of the new detail was still darkened and the guy was trying to prevent me from peering into the room because he was saving it for after I remembered who I was.

As I tried harder and harder to get to the darkened doorway the more he tried to keep me from peering into it until I finally asked “if this is all mine then why can’t I see into a room that is mine” for which he said “it isn’t ready for you to enter it” without knowing what he was talking about I asked “why would that be” which brought a puzzled look to his face and he tried to mutter a few words and could not, then was forced to abandon his attempts to keep me from peering in. As he let me walk up to the darkened doorway I started having trouble walking closer and closer to it until I hit what felt like a brick wall but there was nothing there.

After being stopped in place the woman looked out at me as she was passing the door and said “you can’t come in here yet we’re not ready to have you” so I went back to the walls of pictures and looked at more of the pictures since I could not get any closer to the darkened doorway. The fact that I wasn’t allowed to peer into the darkened doorway didn’t stop me from trying to get closer and closer and actually noticed that the house seemed to be leading me to the abyss at the side of the door instead of the darkened doorway. When I finally realized that I decided to ask “if this is my birthright to be here in my home then why am I being led back towards the front door and on the side of the hole in the floor”?

The Brownstone (fictional story) page 1 of 5

Sitting around outside with a few friends by this brownstone house that had fallen into disrepair with no visible sign of someone stepping foot into it in many years and with many attempts to see beyond the wooden planks that boarded up the windows from the inside failing, we noticed that the house itself was beginning to stir to life.

The windows which had become brown with age showed some light faint of life with a subtle dropping of one planks in the window closest to the stairs, which should have allowed someone to peer into the home but it was as black as could be. As we moved up the steps to take a look inside no one could see into the house due to it being dark inside even with flashlights that a couple of us had.

The door seemed to have become unlocked, so I tried the door and found that that it really was unlocked even though it had always been locked before and that the lock was visibly rusted in place. The doorknob had creaked and was kind of hard to move but it did move and you could hear the door move ever so slightly when the piece that kept the door in place slipped into the door when the knob turned. It ended up being stuck in place from not being opened in a great many years, but with some force I did manage to open the door and I practically fell in onto the floor or at least what was suppose to be the floor and would have fallen in if it wasn’t for a friend catching me.

When I looked up I noticed that the room was lit but I could not see any type of light source and the room was just as brown with age as the windows were. I then looked down at the spot in the floor that I would have fallen on onto and found that there was no floor there but rather a small abyss that was as black as the inside of the house was before the lighting came on. At first there was nothing there then an unmade bed slowly began to appear as we were looking around and from that bed a guy got up out of the bed came almost right up to us and said you are not welcome here.

As we stood there looking around we found ourselves unable to enter past the doorway but yet unable to move away from it either for the front steps had become a small closet like room with just the top few steps there that we stood on. Every few minutes the same guy would get out of bed and tell us the same thing over and over again “you’re not welcome here” then walk about for a couple minutes and then go back to bed. After what seemed like hours we noticed a darkened doorway at the far side of the room directly in front of us. From that we started hearing noises coming from the darkened doorway and then eventually a woman pushing large pieces of kitchen furnishings.

These furnishings were not restricted to kitchen tables or chairs but rather included counter tops and stoves and even a movable sink. As she did this she looked out into the room we were looking into but appeared to not take notice of us being kept in the doorway. As time went by the front steps we occupied and the doorway we were in seem to shrink and each time it appeared to shrink someone disappeared and after a little while the person reappeared in the room on the far side of the living room with helping the woman moving the kitchen furnishings around.

The person who had disappeared from the front steps only to reappear in the house didn’t seem to remember or to see that there were friends of his on the far side of the living room past that darkened doorway looking into the house. The look that each person had on his face was that of someone who had belonged there as a servant and was trying to get the house ready for someone to come or something to happen.
As my friends disappeared from the front steps the doorway got smaller and smaller until I was the only one left and a little while after the last of the friends disappeared from the steps and reappeared in the darkened doorway helping the woman the guy who had been getting out of bed saying you’re not welcome here got up one last time and walked over to what was left of the doorway into the living room and as he got up to the door, what ever was keeping everyone from entering the living room released itself. After that happened he didn’t come out and say what I had expected him to say but rather said welcome home.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

turning the tide

Turning the Tide

As time goes by slowly as it does, for the task at hand seems insurmountable
While doing you best to keep it at bay and going nowhere

You start to think that all you are capable of giving is a feeble attempt at combating
Something so enormous that no matter were you look it just seems to be getting worse
By the minute

When you start believing that your efforts are all for not, you are shown that there is hope
In what you are trying to accomplish when you see that collectively with others just
Like you are slowly turning the tide in your favor, while seeing small things around you
That are up against those same odds and yet they miraculously survive unscathed to give
You a renewed faith and the promise that you are doing is not in vain and stands as a
Tribute to your valor

After the tide has been turned and the day has been won, you are allowed to take your leave
So you can do what you must so you will be ready to do it all again if there is ever a reason
To be called back to do that for what many would call a selfless act of true bravery for
You which you just call your job while thinking nothing of the sacrifice even though you feel it is a job you must do to help others when all that they know is on the line

Sunday, October 21, 2007

the beauty of a flower

The Beauty of a Flower

The beauty of a flower can be as simplistic as the single petal of the water lily or the
Complexly designed pattern of the stargazer lily

The beauty of a flower can be seen in the miniature rose where you can barely see
The intricate definition of each petal that appear to blend together from the
Color and the smallness of the petals, or it can be like the biggest of roses that has a dizzying array
Of petals accentuated by colors that appear to have lots of contrast yet be complementary
To each other as well

The beauty of a flower can be in seeing a field of pansies that looks like a sea of colors or it can be seen in the small patch of daisies that are blowing in the wind

The beauty of a flower can be smelled floating in the gentle spring breezes or when you take the
Time to stop and smell your favorite types of flowers

The beauty of a flower can be in the tiniest of flowers that seems to stand out or it can be
The sheer number of small flowers that appear to cover the wiry plant on the side of the road

The real beauty of a flower is in its strength that comes through in times of adversity where
You think that it can not be hardy enough to thrive but yet it thrives enough to allow
It to bloom and it becomes the most beautiful flower

Saturday, October 20, 2007

old man winter

Old Man Winter

As autumn slips into winter you watch as those dancing shadows from the old oaks and maples
Fall somewhat silent as the gentle winds that fed them go from a whimsical feel and
Movement to a cold harsh wind that gives everyone the chills

As the days pass you notice that the refreshing morning briskness is no longer and has been replaced by a morning chill that the rising sun has trouble warming up and eventually
Giving up trying as the days pass

When you are off on your daily errands you can’t help but miss the sweet songs of the birds that
Use to see all around flying and singing, that have now traveled to warmer weather and
As you look around remembering you don’t even see the ever playful squirrels except for the
Lonely one rummaging through its food stores

As winter sets in and there are no more leaves to dance around in the wind as old man winter gives you a new show to watch as he slowly blankets the ground and the evergreens
With a layer of snow that is so deep, pure, and white that all you feel you can do is watch
In wonder as it comes down and as it comes down you wish you could stay in that moment
Where there is so much beauty in it, then bottle it so you don’t have to let it go

As the stillness ends which came with the falling snow, you slowly start seeing a few animals
Stirring about that had been waken from their slumber from the added chill in the air and
Are now trying to get warm again while trying to find their favorite patches of food
Which are now hidden under the freshly fallen snow

When you have finished taking in the moment you go out to clear a path you look around
And see what looks to be a winter wonderland with the children going sledding down the gently
Sloping mounds of snow and the not yet plowed street, while seeing others building snowmen and seeing their parents clearing their own paths while making mounds that the children can use for sledding

As the time goes by you know that old man winter is giving you this one gift before he really
Goes and gives an even greater chill that makes you shutter from your very soul from it being
So cold and then giving you the cold west wind that bites you as you are still shuttering
From that chill he gave making you feel as if all you want to do is stay at home
Drinking hot chocolate with your favorite toppings that bring back the fondest memories
Of childhood growing up after a long day of playing in the snow

With the harshness that old man winter has dealt you all you see is the hardiest of animals outside
Walking and playing about which is just another way of keeping themselves warm and you
See the people who enjoyed the winder wonderland before the biting chill now all bundled up
Looking like the snowmen they made from the winter clothes just to keep warm

As time draws you deeper into winter you start yearning for spring to come and give a respite from the seemingly never ending chill that takes hold of you at your very core that makes
You want to just crawl up in bed and stay there all day and all night.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

how do you

How Do You

How do you know when the time is right to let someone know that you are
Interested in them when each time you meet the situation doesn’t permit it to be

How do you show then heart and soul when the timing never allows you to show them

How do you show the openness needed to let someone know when you are ready to go
Beyond the awkwardness that the both of you feel in each others presence

How do you let that someone know without letting certain others know about your feelings
When it comes to that someone

How do you let that someone know how you feel without knowing if they are ready to
Hear what you are ready to share with them

How do you know when that someone is waiting for you to come out and bear your soul to them

Sunday, October 14, 2007

how can we

How Can we

How can we teach someone to trust when all they know is mistrust

How can we console someone who appears inconsolable

How can we teach respect when no one wants to be responsible

How can we be civil when others act out of spite

How can we teach when no-one wants to learn

How can we not do our best when we see the worst in others

How can we not do things to help others

How can we not pay attention when things go wrong

How can we not do our best to bring out the best in others

How can we not do our best to see the best in others

How can we not be at our best in everything we do

Sunday, October 7, 2007

A Prayer

A Prayer

A prayer can be just a few simple words

A prayer could be something simple but that is meaningful

A prayer could be a question when you need answers

A prayer could be said to protect the people we care about

A prayer can be said in the hopes of a good journey

A prayer could be said in the hopes of getting things done

A prayer could be said in the hopes of making sure that everyone stays safe

A prayer could be said in the hopes of gaining understanding

A prayer can be said in an attempt to not lose our way or to find someone

A prayer can be said to help someone in need

A prayer could be said when we feel that we are lost and alone

A prayer said in the presence of the sick could put their mind at ease

A prayer could be said to help guide someone home when they are leaving this
Earthly realm that we call life for a better world

A prayer said with someone in need raises their spirits

A prayer gives sanctuary to the weary mind

A prayer is a way to get a load off your chest when you feel you need to speak the
Words out loud to God

A prayer can be said to know that we still have faith

A prayer shows that we still talk to God

A prayer when answered may not always be the expected answer but is always
What is needed at the time

Saturday, October 6, 2007



Halloween is more than an evening of children trick or treating

Halloween is more than a day of fright or of giving people the chills by spooking them

Halloween is the celebration of old hollows eve

Halloween is the celebration of the close of another year from long before
We had twelve months

Halloween is the celebration of the day of the dead in some areas of the world

Halloween is the one day that the dead can walk among us as if they were still alive and well

Halloween is the one day that we can interact with the dead as if they never left us and
Feel their presence all around us

Halloween for those who know its secrets have some real treats by tricking people into a
Spook filled fright all day long starting and ending at the witching hour

Thursday, October 4, 2007

On the Mountain top

On the Mountain Top

On the mountain top as you are waking you can see the early morning fog settling
In that will become the morning dew

On the mountain top the air smells so fresh and clean that you cannot help but feel refreshed
And energized by it

On the mountain top you feel like you are on top of the world with the view that reaches for
Miles upon miles that seem endless

On the mountain top you can see the fields and meadows for which you can watch the
Animals roam in without having to worry about spooking them

On the mountain top as the afternoon fades into dusk, you see the small wispy clouds that are
A deep pink against the deepening blue sky, they look so close that they look almost
Close enough to reach out and touch them

On the mountain top you take stock in the beauty of all the landscapes you can see around
You on the mountains and the tranquility that being up there provides

On the mountain top as the night sets in you see the stars come out with far more brilliance than
You could have ever imagined anywhere else giving you an endless beauty to look at

On the mountain top as you get ready to settle down you can see the flickering lights of the homes
In the distance come on one by one and in a rhythmic dance

On the mountain top as you are laying there waiting for the slumber to come you feel
Contentment with the subtle noises coming out of the darkness that sounds like a lullaby long
Since forgotten and the brisk night air relaxes you helping to lull you to your nightly slumber
That awaits you after a beautiful day on the mountain top

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