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Dead Secrets

Dead Secrets
By
David DeLaine Snow

   A week had gone by before the Coroner finally released her husband’s body to the local Funeral Home; a single gun shot to the head confirmed what she had seen for herself -- a suicide. Jillian would never forget finding George slumped over on the blood soaked couch with brain matter splattered against the wall. Nor would she be able to erase having to clean it all up herself.

   Next to a pile of bills and collection notices on the coffee table lay George’s final note; which read: “It all got out of hand and I’m so sorry, but I can’t stop.”
   George’s gambling debts had drained their joint bank accounts, and now Jillian was left holding several unpaid Payday loans. She lost her land line, Cable, and her utilities were being threatened with getting shut off as well. Now, she had to wait for his Insurance policy to kick in from the Post Office, and pay for his cremation. Their eight months of marriage had not seen them do anything more than verbally plan for their future old-aged deaths. Hence the wait began.
   Two days after they took George’s body away, Jillian couldn’t stomach staying at home by herself, and had not quite busied herself with going through his belongings or deciding on what to do with them yet, so she took a long walk. Spencer, her Brittney Spaniel was more than eager for his walk.
   A stone’s throw from their apartment complex was an undeveloped wooded area near a community park, and that’s where Jillian found herself heading. Spencer excitedly tugged at his leash wanting to be released, but Jillian smiled, “Hold up, boy.” Upping her stride to keep pace with him they continued along the curvatures of the winding sidewalk’s path. Three nanny’s with strollers watched their children at play on the ground’s equipment. At the other end of the park a group of men played their friezbee golf, as a middle aged woman was being pulled along by her own pack of twelve dogs. Crazy dog-walkers, go figure, Jillian thought to herself as Spence sniffed for a place to do his business near the wooded area’s tree line.
   Jillian came here every evening after work to walk Spencer, and it was the very place where she first met George, and where he had later proposed marriage to her. It had been their special place, and now that he was gone memories was all she had left. Something in the wooded area on her right caught her attention. Glancing up, she could have sworn she saw George.
   He was quickly walking away from her along a parallel pathway in the woods. She suddenly found herself calling his name out. Even more astounding was when he turned around. It was George!
With wide eyes, Jillian gasped and yelled, “Why the hell did you do it, George?”
   He said nothing. Spencer looked up at her cocking his head, questioning her tone of voice. Checking her dog for any validation that she wasn’t crazy, Jillian looked back into the now empty woods.
   The dog-walker came up from behind her and asked, “I’m sorry what did you say?”
Blushing Jillian quickly replied, “Sorry. I -- Just thought I saw someone I knew.” Then abruptly turned away and headed home crying.
 
 
 Dead Secrets
By
David DeLaine Snow



A week had gone by before the Coroner finally released her husband’s body to the local Funeral Home; a single gun shot to the head confirmed what she had seen for herself -- a suicide. Jillian would never forget finding George slumped over on the blood soaked couch with brain matter splattered against the wall. Nor would she be able to erase having to clean it all up herself.
Next to a pile of bills and collection notices on the coffee table lay George’s final note; which read: “It all got out of hand and I’m so sorry, but I can’t stop.”
George’s gambling debts had drained their joint bank accounts, and now Jillian was left holding several unpaid Payday loans. She lost her land line, Cable, and her utilities were being threatened with getting shut off as well. Now, she had to wait for his Insurance policy to kick in and pay for his cremation. Their eight months of marriage had not seen them do any more than verbally plan for their future old-aged deaths. Hence the wait began.
 
…………..
………….end with...
Jillian entered the bustle of the Police Department, and walked up to the information desk, telling the clerk, “I would like to report a murder.” Everyone turned and looked at her. “Actually, I think I may have some information about those missing people in the news.”


 
/////////////////////////////////
notes
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
 


A quiet suburban family had financial problems:
 
The day after her husband is cremated, the wife tries to get on with her life by taking her dog for a walk. On a curving sidewalk that parallels an undeveloped wooded area; she swears she sees her husband walking along a path in the woods. On another day’s walk she notices him again, but then after a few trees she sees a different person altogether. A week later she notices a half buried key on the wooded pathway, when she picks it up she also uproots a chain that leads to a diary, in a zip-lock plastic bag. The diary gives detailed descriptions of seven murders:
Married in Dec, JFMAMJ, died in August
The diary is a Murder-day-by-day, before and afterward account.
7 people died.
February
1-A hooker; 27 year old YeLonda Gomez; sex, smothered by pillow in a motel. {He lost a lot of money, she looked a lot like his wife; who was just arguing w/ him}
March
2-A hooker; 31 year old Marsha McBride; raped, chocked with a cord in car. {arguing w/ wife that electricity was cut off and they had no money!}
April
3-A hitchhiker; 35 year old Amber Packer; taken to her home, hit with hammer to back of head.
April
4-A man waiting on the bus; 22 year old Roland Zimmerman; taken to his home, strangled
May
5-A man needing gas; 27 year old Tilvan Jonston; strangled after getting out of car
May
6- A woman changing her tire; 32 year old Viki Sung; raped, throat cut.
June
7- A boy; 9 year old Joseph Waltermath, smothered; son of the husband‘s employer.
Jillian found a key tucked away in a small compartment in George’s wallet. Stuffed away in a pile of collection notices Jillian found a receipt to a Storage facility. The key went to the lock on a 10’x10’ store room: shovel, cord, pillow knife, bloody clothes and extra clothes.
The husband was the killer.
===============
can’t gamble anymore , death
Kid was outside, convenient. Why should he look so happy when ever very thing is going bad for me
 
 
She takes the book home and begins reading the entries, realizes what it is becomes fearful that the killer may be watching the area and shes afraid to go to the police, distraught of the suicide of her husband. She later finds a love poem by her husband - how he proposed to her; she’s startled by the similarities of the handwriting and individual characters, “k” and capital “T”s were to those in the diary
Neatly tucked away in the pocket of a folded, button-down collar shirt, Jillian found a note. It was a meticulous drawing of the wooded area, with names and X’s. The sinking feeling registered on her brain that she had discovered a map to where the bodies were buried.
 
NOTE THIS IS NOT EVERYTHING!!!!!! (c) copyright to be sure!!! THERE is a twist!!!

Humm...

I hope I get some of these right?????? 




REMEMBERING My Father....


I stayed two weeks straight with my day in the hospital. I took bird baths in the rest rooms, ate and drank out of the vending machines, and slept on cushions on the floor in the waiting room. For two weeks straight I..A few days there  'Hopper' and Jane, dear friends of my dad took care of me; eternally gratful... . sigh... then the day I came home... I got news he passed away. Every year I fight that horribly devastating depression of feeling "foolish" near April Fool's Day; wishing I had not left my father's side.
 He was a hard man. A good man. A man of conviction and dry bone integrity; an example I have at times failed to live up to and exemplify to others; namely my daughter Elizabeth R Garza. I feared, respected and loved my Dad dearly. Only much much later as an adult; nearing the last few years of his life did I actually "get to know" him did I realize what being "a man" cost. My Dad.... my dad, was priceless and I am sorrowfully sad that I miss him so very much. Yet years ago he told me "once", "Son, I'm very very proud of you..."
   If I could only be a small fraction of the Character my father projected to be and live his life I would be extremely honored. I wear his ring, and shave the SNOW image in the mirror; he's voice is ever in my mind. Never a day goes by without even the fleeting of thoughts go back to the lessons my father taught me nor the memories of his final hospital stay.

I'm ready

There is a time
There is a time unlike other times
There is a place
There is a place unlike other places
This is the time and place not to shine
But to be reflective and humble
And let Him above shine
In all the times and places 
Of our grateful lives.

PUBLISHING

SNOWEBEAR PRODUCTIONS is the Official site listing what I have published with Amazon and on the e-book Kindle.

Here is a List of some of the stories I am currently working on and wish to see get published:

CURE CRISIS  Coming Soon! My closest story to actual publication.


THE CATHARSIS MANUSCRIPT  [Vol. I]  (Fiction/ Epic Fantasy: Biblical-esk)
THE WATCHER'S BOOK OF BOOKS: Tales From The Nephilim Age  [Vol. II]  (Epic Fantasy)

THE COMPLEX: Anthology of short stories  (Fiction: Weird Tales about a neighborhood)
   The Lesson
   The Gazebo
   The Envelope
   Over Again
   Remember When
   The Key
   The New Old Boots
   The Spell Box

The Trendelenberg Effect (Sciecen Fiction: Time Travel, Murder mystery)

The Awakening (Serial Killer, Mental Health)


(Some of these I have shared variously on this blog)

We all have "stories" in us. Stories, histories, fears, hopes and drama simply because we breath.  Some of the deepest moments of my darkest depressions have been, when in my own thinking I was "the only one" feeling. The best way out of depression, for me, IS in raising my head and realizing I am where I am. Others are behind me and others are ahead of me. We are where WE are in our journey in this experience we call LIFE.


...





Stopped and listening again..


I ran from my calling
myself and others
to emptiness filled with 
with self doubt
and spinning thoughts
then
one day
driving to work
I caught myself talking
to a passenger who wasn't there
tears and a blinding light
as I laid on the floor before the altar
during an entire church service
i might not be behind a pulpit 
but 


..

KYON "Begins His Work"

 

AFTER the death of his father Nadan, Kyon stayed a year and a day with Nadan’s manservant as his guardian. In all that time Kyon spoke not a word. Even when pressed to do so the young man would stare in the speaker’s face till they would let him be. The day after his father had been dead for a complete year, Kyon spoke, saying, “I must be about my father’s business.”
   At this a stunned Janus asked, “Pray tell, and what work is that young master?”
   His quick reply was, “To prepare others to preform works worthy of being remembered. For too many live wasted lives and sorted pleasures without care. Illuva desired his children to be more than they have been.”
   “There is no one Higher than His calling in our lives.” Kyon spoke plainly of God.
Janus look astonished at the eleven year old boy’s depth of understanding that was beyond mere rote-memorization.

   The following mid-day Kyon spoke to Janus as an adult, “Gratitude beyond words dear Janus for your loyalty to my father in caring for me. Today I release you of that oath and restore your freedom to you.” Picking up a walking stick he added, “It begins.”  With that, Kyon the only son of Nadan lived on his own. Janus remained in the home of Nadan as Kyon gave it to him. The former servant told him it was forever his and that Kyon was always welcomed without so much as even a knock. Yet, Kyon declined the offer and never again set foot in the house.
   Kyon Omdan went to the Great Hall of Mithar and stood at the foot of its many steps. Silently he stood there without movement. People came and went about him with greetings and questions. He ignored them all and stood unmoved before its guards who watched him as well.
   At daybreak the snake locking gears of the great doors of the Hall opened. The High Priest Malladek began his chanting prayer stopping everyone who heard his call. The people turned and face the bay waters of Luhun in silent respect. Suddenly a voice called over the words of the priest.
   “Again you recite empty, meaningless verbiage from memory.” It was Kyon, the only son of the prophet Nadan whose words caught everyone’s attention. Malladek fell silent, even as the crowds turned in bewilderment to hear who dared to speak such things. Continuing, the boy spoke louder, “You lead these people daily like the blind before a dangerous cliff. Aimlessly they follow your every direction without a thought; minding only that you pretends lordship over them. You in truth are the Arrogant Ones and not those who faithfully left for a blessed hope, promised them ages before!
   “Arise from you slumbering ways you hard hearted leaders of a hard headed people and come to the truth my father gave you. Awake from your dull complacency oh Children of Nasil. No longer be beguiled by Mithar’s towered shadow!”

   “SILCENCE!” The High Priest Malladek commanded. “Your very father was once a priest after our order, and now you dare to speak slander against his name as well?”
   “Nadan Omdir followed Illuva, his service within that shadow,” he said this pointing to Varlendur itself, “never faltered from The Holy One! His was ever for a higher calling, and every point he contended with you and even Vethdema himself.”
   By now the astonished people began to gather about the steps of the Great Hall pondering the boy’s accusations. Seeing their questioning faces, the High Priest called for the guards to arrest Kyon, “Sentries do your duty and take him before the King!”
Yet, even as the two guards left their post before the door’s mighty columns, Kyon shouted with a raised hand, “Stay yourselves!” At Kyon’s command they stood where they were, locked in their steps unmoving.
   Malladek shouted, trying to incite the crowds in his favor, “See now how the boy uses Magick to stay these guards? Heed not his foolishness for there still reigns a mighty King over Mithar.”
   Without fear Kyon countered with, “So says the cleric of falsehood. Who woke you up to instruct with ever changing lies? How long oh people of the Bay of Luhun shall you allow yourselves to become weak servants to men instead of God in heaven alone?”
   The men standing nearby feared the priest and king for God was but in truth just an unseen terror used by those they could see. Therefore their bewilderment was easily turned to outrage as they rushed to seize the boy themselves. However, moments later their tangled arms came up empty for Kyon had eluded them all. Just as the guards came back to their senses they questioned the chaos before them.



   So this is how Kyon, the only son of Nadan began his adulthood and soon began to be called a prophet like his father.


THE LAST RITUAL: Bane of Mithar

"Calling now upon you our fathers
be here once again we beseech you,
in spirit do stand before us as we are.
Manifest in smoke and heed our call.
By this your collective ash
mixed with blessed colander seed
and the purged intent of sage
come now and give your council 
grave and determined be true.
For our hearts have grown weak
from sorrow and plight in darkness,
share you fabled grace again!"

(CLICK to enlarge image )

 As many times before the candles blew out.  The smoke of the incense bowl rose up and began to glow as moonlight and churned like clouds.  A form took the shape as a female before those fearful priests.  Unlike before the voice was of many speaking as one, "I am Valinada.  Why have you conjured me forth like some summonsed spector for your bidding?"
   "We ask a boon of you, our most sacred Lady." They replied.
  "A boon?  Hear me well! Everything you wish to know may already be learned from your living experiences.  Seventy-seven times before have you disturbed our slumbering memories.
   "Cursed and be Warned!" She screamed with outrage.
   The Priest-King Amarzath stepped forward and boldly asked ignoring her tone, "Tell us truly, shall we as a people endure?"
   The smoke glowed and dimmed with each spoken word, "Heed my words and call us forth no more.  The plight you suffer is all but of your own making, and the wisdom of experience belongs to the living alone.  The Undying Lands are filled only with our memories; it is you of the here and now that have the gift of change.
   "Shattered and scattered shall be the urn of our remains.  Even the dwarven masters admonished you from worshiping us in this manner of folly.  Revere only The Most High Creator.
   "LOOK! Judgement now falls upon you oh King Amarzath for such deeds!"

   With that the smoke form dissipated as the candles became lit again by the incense's fumes returning.  Fear overcame those hooded priest, and their faces turned white.  I, Shallumath,  faithful senior scribe witnessed all these things from the corner in which I always sat to observe.
   Upon that chamber's door a pounding messenger gained entrance crying, "The siege of death comes against us all my lords!  Behold, for a mighty sand storm hastens to fall upon the city!"

   I, Shallumath sat huddled in my cloak upon my mat watching the priest scream in fear.  Moments following the messenger's warning the entirety of the city and our very chamber was engulfed in a frightening storm.  Sand swarmed all about us like biting fleas in the night.  From my forgotten seat I saw forms covered in shadows welding great blades.  The sound of the mighty wind, screaming priest begging for their lives and the crashing of pottery.
   The hours of blowing sand with a lion's roar went on for the entire day and night.  By next morning's daybreak the sand storm passed as a new sound of mornful wailing began. The falling tears of women and children for their slain fathers, husband and hero soldiers.
   Before me the Watcher's Urn lay in scattered shards and the floor itself a desert waste.  The headless bodies of the twelve priest bled out in the ruin, and I alone remained alive in the Tower of Varlendur, now the Bane of Mithar.


.............................
The Lesson. . . . 

THE WATCHER'S BOOK: Kyon

   
( Click to enlarge picture )

In the city of Lindol there was a widow named Mena, a devout follower of the Goddess Yevanna. Mena devoutly burned incense in her temple daily, never forgetting to mention her husband who had been lost at sea.

   One day as Mena was working in her garden a stranger happened to venture by. The stranger approached and said, "Woman, give me a bowl of soup made fresh from your garden, as The Creator Illuva's servant asks and you shall be blessed beyond measure this very day."
   The old woman said, "I do not even know your name, why must you so compel me to do such a thing? *sigh* Nonetheless, it shall be done." Straight away Mena gathered and prepared the meal. It proved to be the last of what she had in store.Without a spoken word that it was the last of her own food she smilingly offered it to the stranger at her table.
   The young man ate his fill leaving nothing to remain behind, got up and turned to leave in silence. As he did so the woman called after him, "May Illuva richly bless you instead!"
   With that the stranger turned back around and replied, "I am Kyon the only son of Nadan the Prophet. Behold, as I said before - here comes your reward beyond measure my dear Lady." Kyon Omdan then walked down the eastern road without passing any one.
   Seeing nothing unusal occur Mena returned to cleaning up her kitchen after the stranger when shortly there came a knock at the door again.
Upon opening the door her eyes filled with tears and she burst into laughter jumping to embrace her husband who stood there.
   A moment later he confessed an amazing tale. "I was lost at sea," He began, "for three weeks we drifted beyond the rim of the world. Many a day I feared sight of The Undying Lands, and ever was your name and face in my thoughts beloved wife.
   "Washed finally ashore, shipwrecked near the Port of Kathos was I found and thought dead. I was taken in and nursed to health again by a couple much younger than I.
   "For two weeks the merchant of Kathos gave me apprenticeship as a Copper-smith as I had no memory of who I was, but learned the craft quickly. Two months after I had been washed ashore, Japheth of Lindol ventured to that port city to buy his wares. In doing so he certainty recognized me of who I rightly was, and in that moment my true memory returned; as a flash of lightening in the night.
   "Being fully restored, my love, have I returned begging your forgiveness of my long absence and thinking me perished in death. I pray also that you would return with me for there I have a house grander than this one, a shop of my own and food beyond measure!" His fine clothes and offering of a coin purse was proof enough of his tale unto her.
   In reply she said through her tears, "Nolshek, all I have ever wanted was your safe return to my arms. Everything after that is a blessing in itself."

   AS Kyon journeyed down the road leaving Men's tiny home three ruffians threatened to waylay him. He asked, "Why do you seek to do me harm for I am as a stranger to you?"
   "It is for that very reason, that you are a stranger in these parts that we have no fear of a boy the like of you," said the first club welding highway man. The other two laughed and drew their own blades.
   Kyon said without hesitation or fear, "I have no coin to steal, no fine robe to take nor walking stick to claim as your own, and yet you would strive to take my very life for sport."
   The two jested in turn, "Yes, it is well known only Fools travel this road at dusk just because of the likes of us!"
But Kyon only stood his ground saying, "Such a pity you have allowed yourselves to see Kyon the only son of Nadan for the final time." Then Kyon waved his hand before them. In a panic the two men dropped their knives and began clasping their eyes screaming loudly, "I can not see!" "You fool, how did you blind me?"
   The third man, dropping his club fell to knees begging for mercy instead, "Forgive me Master! Do not curse me as well! I was banished into being a begger and fell among men of poor morals in hard times. Take mercy on me my lord, I beg you!"
   Kyon said, "Mercy indeed. Go, and tell everyone what you have seen. The very day in which you stop sharing such amazing news of kindness shall prove to be the very day you shall surely be stricken as blind as them! For some blind men are never healed of their blackened hearts."

   ONE day Kyon, the only son of the Prophet Nadan sat in the market square of Lindol, on the rim of a drawing well. A woman came to fetch water for her family's needs. Kyon said to her, "Daughter, for kindness sake give me a fresh drink from your pale, and your second shall see you greatly rewarded by Illuva himself!"
   After she gave Kyon a drink, she asked with a laugh, "Shall I now draw again to find gold coins?"
   Kyon answered, "Love is far more precious a thing maiden, more than all the coins this well could ever hold." With that he rose and left.
   About this time a warrior on a great horse dismounted his heavily clad stead, and removing his helm knelt before the young milk maid saying, "I am CaLos of Uruk, from the fourth House of Calabrosh. I have finished many tasks this day and rode far to meet the King of Mithar on urgent business. I came to LIndol for my personal sake. Please, I beg you to hear me out."
   Startled she almost rose to leave but stayed, as the young prince continued, "Be my bride, and I shall be the happiest man of all Eriduah. I have inherited great wealth from my father, and for three years thought it folly to search for the face that captivated all my nightly dreams. This very day I gave up in searching; yet have I found you at last. For Kyon, the only son of the prophet Nadan, told me such a thing would happen three years ago!"
   In amazement the soiled face girl said before the gathering crowd, "How can I leave my father's home, break my mother's heart and abandon my seven brother alone; even if you are some far away prince?"
   He smiled broadly, "They may come as well my sweet, if only you would make me as happy as I am in this very moment for the rest of my life. Surely I would rather bestow of my wealth upon your father's household just to have your hand in mine."


   By this time her family was among the crying crowd smiling, as she unblinkingly said, "YES!" The next day Sandriel and CaLos were wed and they journeyed to Uruk from Lindol with great joy.

THE DIALOGUE was so neat...

Its Monday
The Videos have music
( Grins )

hehehe



TNA PIXt

These are some old pictures I drew for my story THE NEPHILIM AGE










LOTR

KYON THE PROPHET

(Click to enlarge picture)

In the city of Linol there was a widow named Mena, a devout follower of the Goddess Yevanna. Mena devoutly burned incense in her temple daily, never forgetting to mention her husband who had been lost at sea.
..
One day as Mena was working in her garden a stranger happened to venture by. The stranger approached and said, "Woman, give me a bowl of soup made fresh from your garden, as The Creator
Illuva's servant asks and you shall be blessed beyond measure this very day."
The old woman said, "I do not even know your name, why must you so compel me to do such a thing? *sigh* Nonetheless, it shall be done." Straight away Mena gathered and prepared the meal. It proved to be the last of what she had in store.Without a spoken word that it was the last of her own food she smilingly offered it to the stranger at her table.

The young man ate his fill leaving nothing to remain behind, got up and turned to leave in silence. As he did so the woman called after him, "May Illuva richly bless you instead!"
With that the stranger turned back around and replied, "I am Kyon the only son of Nadan the Prophet. Behold, as I said before - here comes your reward beyond measure my dear Lady." Kyon Omdan then walked down the eastern road without passing any one.
Seeing nothing unusal occur Mena returned to cleaning up her kitchen after the stranger when shortly there came a knock at the door again.
Upon opening the door her eyes filled with tears and she burst into laughter jumping to embrace her husband who stood there.
A moment later he confessed an amazing tale. "I was lost at sea," He began, "for three weeks we drifted beyond the rim of the world. Many a day I feared sight of The Undying Lands, and ever was your name and face in my thoughts beloved wife.
"Washed finally ashore, shipwrecked near the Port of Kathos was I found and thought dead. I was taken in and nursed to health again by a couple much younger than I.
"For two weeks the merchant of Kathos gave me apprenticeship as a Copper-smith as I had no memory of who I was, but learned the craft quickly. Two months after I had been washed ashore, Japheth of Lindol ventured to that port city to buy his wares. In doing so he certainty recognized me of who I rightly was, and in that moment my true memory returned; as a flash of lightening in the night.
"Being fully restored, my love, have I returned begging your forgiveness of my long absence and thinking me perished in death. I pray also that you would return with me for there I have a house grander than this one, a shop of my own and food beyond measure!" His fine clothes and offering of a coin purse was proof enough of his tale unto her.
In reply she said through her tears, "Nolshek, all I have ever wanted was your safe return to my arms. Everything after that is a blessing in itself."

....

I Broke my neck and Can't get up!!!!

IN NEED OF PRAYER, CONCERNS
....................................................................
A co-worker of mine broke her neck and is paralyzed.
A Nurse (Joyce "Ann" Merrll); her Diabetic blood sugar dropped dangerously low causing her to pass out. She fainted hitting the floor in her home so hard that she broke her nose. Coming too she screamed and screamed and yelled for help til finally an upstairs neighbor heard her and called an ambulance; SIX HOURS LATER!!!
Number 3,4, 5 neck bones are severely fractured (Doctor said if #2 she would have died instantly); surgery in two weeks. She is paralyzed from the neck down. I visited with her for an hour and a half after work (2/10) last night; Denton Regional Medical Center 5th floor, ROOM #506. SHE COULD USE your concerns and a visit.
 "ANN" LOL is a 'loud mouth' speak from the honest hip 'country' 'Old School' kind of woman. I spent a long while just visiting her in the hospital last night. VERY much a sense of humor intact; scared sigh very much a believer though not the religious type. The doctor at first said, "Well, guess you'll never walk again; (then much later after test reviews said) "Hum maybe I'm wrong, think we'll have ya back on your feet after surgery in two weeks and rehab." SHE is hopeful. This event has brought together some very distant children of hers and I encouraged her to water that newly bonded relationship. I prayed with her while I was there and she was very grateful for my presence. It is very humbling to be an extremely independent sort and then to suddenly be totally dependent upon everyone.


 """I dont pray and Im not a believer!!""" Okay, BUT those who do and those who are are still ""encouraged"" strengthen and emotionally helped when we all show an interest (sometimes even in passing) that we as fellow humans display the compassion of even momentary sorrow of a person's plight. Never know when you will slip and fall in the restroom and wind up in the hospital wondering HOW DID I GET HERE??? I have way way too many people I know personally - that could use a prayerful extension of concern, even in a loving pass of thought.


I Will later make a Point of Contact page for Ann for any who would like to follow her progress and are able to donate any funds of assistance
.

Suicidal Thoughts

Friends melt away the sadness of sorrow
lovers embrace with bliss a deeper joy
birds sing their own kinda language
and the laughter of children shrills hope
blue skies even on 911 live forever
expensive caskets are outlived by memories
there is always joy at daybreak
the night doesn't linger amid the stars.
Life is meant to be lived in experiences
it's what we gift to our survivors 
lessons learned in our personal journeys 
no longer do shadows haunt my voices.

~David DeLane Snow

...

On the Wing


She came like a silent bird
who briefly spied the view 
a restful peace of joy
a glimps of hope
life was given encouragement 
a smile broke across my face
a sparkle in my eye
burdens lifted
as she flew away
my heart soared 
with that bird upon the heights
never forgotten am I
still learning to breath.

~David DeLane Snow

..

From Amid The Shadows


There is a Light/
a love that shines/
brighter than pain/
a bliss in peace/
living with oneself/
no longer groping/
in the dark/
no longer escaping/
but facing the pain/
living in the rain/
sees flowers again.

~ David DeLane Snow


.

Clean shaven.


I found my father's face.

3D Manuscript

I'm re-writing (translating) my story and illustrating it with an "elven" script.





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