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THE PLACHETTE
UPDATE: I found the story hiding under another title.
A week had gone by before the Coroner finally released her husband’s body to the local Funeral Home; a single gunshot to the head confirmed what she had seen for herself -- a suicide. Jillian would never forget how she found 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 up by herself.
Jillian gave a long audible sigh as she sat there across from the couch. Those images were forever etched into her mind. She was looking forward to her sister’s visit. How she desperately needed Olivia’s comfort. Jillian was barely holding on and each day that ticked by seemed like a struggle for things to come together. In front of her, on the coffee table lay the evidence of her complicated life. There, next to a pile of bills and collection notices still lay George’s final note in the ashtray; which simply read: “I’m sorry it all got out of hand, I can’t stop. I didn’t mean for the last one to happen.”
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 now her utilities were being threatened with getting shut off as well. She was beyond stressed as she had to wait for his Insurance policy to arrive just to pay for his cremation. He was still in the funeral home, lying beneath bags of ice until a check hit her bank. Their eight months of marriage had not seen them do anything more than verbally plan for their future old-aged deaths. Hence, the wait for her dead husband’s agent to return from his vacation continued.
...
MY Writing Goals
Over the years I have scratched out my ideas, and only just recently had the courage to 'put myself out there' and actually publish some of my writings. My first effort was a book of poems. I have several other projects I want to publish as well. Over the last 20+ years, I have slowly scratched, written, and pecked away at various ideas and concepts, some are listed below
[ Poetry ] ON SALE NOW!
The Apartment Complex
[An Anthology of odd short stories ] Coming Soon!
The Nephilim Age: Jacob's Catharsis
[ Fantasy ]
The Watcher's Book of Book {Compaion to The Nephilim Age}
[ Fantasy ]
Cure Crisis
[ Science-Fiction / SteamPunk ]
The Planchette
[ Thriller ]
History of a Surname
[ Genealogy ]
The Pagans of Scripture
[ Religious ]
LOL A New! Idea.... WHAT HAPPENS to the missing phone that you just replace?
ENOSH
THE BLEEDING STONE OF ORID
The Sayings of Enosh:
God alone knows the hearts of man.
Correction and justice are necessary things.
Evil men strangle the fate of others for their own will.
May clear truth never be called high-treason.
Those who would stand, even in a crowd for righteousness’
sake shall forever be blessed.
A great and terrible thing is marching upon you all …feared
the most.
You shall surely be saved…
you and all in your household.. three generations from now.
The sorrow that shall befall that very hour… because of vain traditions… lies from the
Book of Books… like crumbs finger fed to beaten pets!
.....
THE LORE OF ENAVA AND FAYENDAR
THIS IS THE HEART of all my writing! This is the "original" CANDLE EVE long verse revised. It was from this one tale that all of my other writings, maps and drawing revolve, and grew from.
111 I was young when my mother called
me Fayendar, but I kept the name and
ever was known as “Beloved-brother”
unto all I met in my travels thereafter.
to that woodland maid, who worshiped
‘neath the gray moonlit stars,
near that clear running brook.
113 For seven nights she bathed
and did prance before my wanting
eyes, all the while unknowing of
my desirous presence, and gaze nearby.
114 On that seventh starlit eve
I wove her name upon the wind,
like an enchantment into her
tune I sang along in whispered chants.
115 “Enava,” I so named my sweet
“Morning Love” when at dawn’s break
she would always dress and leave me;
always wanting more of story to hear.
116 She sang of children’s laughter about
her feet, she desired sons and daughters of
her own, a family to grow and teach,
clothe and love; to be mother and wife.
117 She sang of the Goddess Ye`vonel,
the naked Moon-Queen who rode across
the midnight sky upon her winged
steed, granting fertility and strength.
118 With dripping long hair, arched
back, and her firmness raised high, she
kicked amid that splashing brook to
conjure forth a melody and husband seek.
119 She was a daughter, from the village
called Uruk, just one among twelve most
loved by her mother, yet she felt alone;
and indeed her time for love had come.
120 On the eighth night she wept instead,
and ere she pranced-bare, alone before the
Goddess-moon; Fayendar announced
himself as a wanderer of Mithar unto her.
121 He calmed her frightful gasp by
singing his own song of faraway lands and
his desires of home and love, of family
and need of wife as lovely as she; “Enava”.
123 Instead of anger, Arlene by name
blushed at his confession, that he had so
enjoyed her prancing-arch, moon-lit
dance, which had conjured him forth.
124 It was then in that fair moment
near dawn’s hour, at which three great
hounds bounded toward my strange
presence, to save their princess fair.
124 Yet, Enava-Arlene called them back
by name: King, April and Micah; from
their pouncing duty against the
woodland wanderer she had befriended.
125 At her behest they led us back home
to where our winding trail so followed;
past Uruk’s market well, and sunbaked
homes, where questioning faces turned.
126 She introduced me to her mother and
grandmother too, a story-telling brother
and sisters more; yet even among them
all, Enava still held my wanting heart.
127 They took me as one of their own as
though I had always belonged among
them; her mother spoke of me as a son,
unto her brother, a brother I had become.
128 In seven months’ time I called dear
wife and me, her husbandman true; then
gifted me a daughter who radiated with
elven-grace, a beauty beyond elegance.
129 I so name the child “Ilbrekah” for
indeed she was “A child of Elven-love”, bold
and strong willed more than her kin,
adventurous spirit, with a seeking heart.
130 Yet upon her seventh birth-year I
confessed my sadness to her mother,
Enava, I had so betrayed my Lord-King,
Valenfay; fleeing fair Eul’s Ra`More in fear.
131 Since childhood my brother, Calan so
named, had ever grown deeper in his
disdain of me, and sought my life to
take; I had endangered those about me.
132 Against her begging tears she
understood my cause and need to make
recompense unto his majesties’ crown I
had so greatly offended his honored House.
133 So it was where I left you my beloved
child in not knowing me, your father all
these year and the tale of how I met
your mother and cause for my departure.
.....
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