Legend of the Lake

  I've lived in small town on one of the Great Lakes almost my whole life.  its a town like any other; there's a library, a town hall, various parks, schools and cookie cutter houses as far as the eye can see.  The Lake, well its not the ocean, but damn, its beautiful.  Especially at sunset when the sun seems to melt into the water like a molten hammer striking a mirrored-glass surface.

   So you might see why I wanted to take a boat out to the middle of the Lake to see the sunset from a prime vantage point. And that's exactly what I did a few weeks ago on a cloudless night.  Packing a small dinner of a roast beef sandwich, a bottle of root beer, some cheese and cracker and a slice of chocolate cake, I set out.

   The wind was moderate, the waves weren't overly churning, it was a fine night...or so it seemed..About 3 miles out from shore I turned the motor off and sat back. "This dinner is going to be savory alongside this sunset", I thought to myself.  The sandwich and root beer slowly disappeared, then the cheese and crackers were gone, leaving only the slice of cake.  The sun was just about on the horizon, as I raised my fork to take a bike of moist chocolate-y goodness, the sun sank into the water. But this time I was part of the event, not merely a spectator, a participant. Beautiful, I smiled enjoying the scene and the cake.

  But the enjoyment only lasted for but a moment.  Suddenly the sky turned black, clouds rapidly drew in from all sides like a flock of black sheep herded madly together.  I cannot convey the extent to which this frightened me.  I tried to get a grip on myself and restart the motor.  I grabbed the choke, but then I became stunned by a ring of lightning first on the shoreline, then encircling my boat. I was paralyzed.

   The waves were getting higher and higher, the dark rain began to come down.  The sky was almost black now, but with each lightning strike it flashed into a different radical colour.  Flash! Blue! Back to dark... Flash! Emerald Green! Back to dark.. this what went on for what seemed like ages. I must have passed out after the sky turned a sort of fuchsia hue.

    I woke up on shore; I suppose I had to have ship wrecked.  My clothes were still damp.  It was some pre-dawn hour, my wrist-watch was gone.  I stood up to find that my legs were shaky.  I then looked down at myself to discover that I was glowing softly.  I marveled at this for a moment, only to hear a voice speaking as if on the other end of a tunnel saying "You will find your way.  Do not despair at what you find before you."

    I reached up and ran my hand through my hair in amazement, ending up twice as amazed at my hair being twice as shaggy as it had been a few hours before: or how long had I been passed out?!  Pushing this thought from my mind I set off down the shore, seeing all sorts of wondrous debris: curtains still on a rod, what seemed to be a large polka-dotted octopus, a tall kitchen table and chairs set together on the beach as if that were their natural home.  Also there was a green baseball bat, three left shoes of varying sizes and colour, and a snorkel with mask and fins.  The strange part was all of these items seemed to be fairly intact, in fact the octopus roused itself and crept back into the ocean as if it had only taken a nap on the beach. I rubbed my eyes.

    I continued up the shore, then climbed the hill away from the beach back up to the rest of town.  I was only hoping to find a little more sanity, sadly that was not in the cards...The boring-cookie-cutter-town I knew so well? It was gone.  Not gone in the sense that a monsoon had come through and wrecked the place, no gone as in it looked as if it had never existed.  But the land wasn't empty, in place of my modern lake-side-suburban town sat a whimsical medieval village.

   Again I rubbed my eyes; pinched myself, nope this was in fact real.  The thatched roofs, the stone walls, lack of pavement, no cars, whoa! people riding horses! This was miles beyond strange, where or when was I?

  "Go to the Pavilion, you will find some clarity there and the beginning of your adventure" the voice in my head said. I seemed to be still glowing mysteriously...hmm odd..."Hey voice! wait, what adventure? Where am I? Who are you?" and of course there was no reply. I decided to head for the pavilion in the middle of town, it was still early in the morning so not many villagers were out yet.  On the floor of the thatched pavilion sat a brown box tied with string.  There was a card on top of the box that said only

                                               "For L"

 Supposing that meant me, I untied the string and opened the box, inside were...green clothes?  A long green cap and a matching tunic with knee high boots.  I realized the clothes I was wearing were thoroughly ruined and the green ones looked like they matched the surroundings better; I put them on.  Strangely or maybe not so strangely they fit almost perfectly and were quite comfortable.  So I guess it was time to figure out what sort of adventure that voice was referring to.


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Thanks for reading, I haven't written part two yet, but you might enjoy my story "Into the Tall Grass" if you liked this one. 

Not Quite Right

         We walked into the bar on that Friday night, to find the band playing "Benny and the Jets" like a funeral dirge. I went to to get our drinks while the somber beat went on: Ben (Thump-Thump) Ben (Thump-Thump) - Nee and (Thump) the (Thump) Jets (Thump-Thump), then the accordion cut in, winding endlessly. It was spooky and slightly spine-chilling. I ordered then said to the bartender, "Cheery affair tonight, eh?"
 
        "Yeah they've been doing the same all night. they walked in and announced they were doing covers tonight. Though I don't think anyone was expecting this." He finished pulling the beers and handed them to me. I thanked him and started to walk away when he said, "Oh, one more thing, don't look them in the eye tonight, something just ain't right in the air."

Looking for You

  You never came back, but I never stopped looking for you.  In crowds I'd scan through the faces to see if you might be there.  At the park I would look up ahead thinking you'd be there, just around the corner walking your dog like back then. Especially at airports, before long trips I'd look to see you departing or arriving with your lurid yellow suitcase...that suitcase that never left your side..

  No, I never stopped searching, even when months and years had gone by. Still I scanned and looked, always hopeful, even when I started to forget your face.  It only ended when your ghost showed up at my door one night.

                                --------------------------

Gotye
Somebody That I Used to Know
 

Tangent Control

When I'm writing its so much easier for me to organize my thoughts. When I'm speaking out loud I fall down into tangents endlessly. Telling a story on paper? Coherent.. Face to face? I might lose you halfway through trying to fill you in on things that I think might be important to the overall story but in actuality are not.

  So what's the solution? I don't know...I suppose try to get more to the point. Keep things succinct instead of winding and winding around, losing people in the labyrinth of my words.  I guess I need to think just a little bit more before I open my mouth instead of always winging it. Sometimes it seems like my mouth has a mind of its own, and I need to tame it.

Matt Pond PA

How bout some music? I bet you'd all like some. Here's some Matt Pond PA this is..maybe the third time I've posted them on here? Use the ole' search bar to find the other times! This song has been one of my favourites over the past year or so, I hope you all enjoy.

Matt Pond PA
Remains

In the Middle of the Night

    James Peter awoke in the middle of the night to find that he was crying. He was crying and he had no idea, no hint as to why that might be. He lay in the dark trying to remember any part of his dream that could be a clue, but the memory of his dream was fast receding into wisps of nothing. James clicked on his bedside lamp, grabbed a tissue and dried his face and eyes.  He looked at his digital clock to see it softly glowing green to tell him it was 3:08am. Deciding there wasn't much chance of falling immediately back to sleep, James Peter swung his legs out of the bed, his feet slipping into his slippers.

        He padded off towards the kitchen to make himself some hot cocoa, and why not  from scratch? James stopped only on his journey to the kitchen when his cat, Mr. Druthers, nuzzled his leg then mewed, as if to say, "Is everything okay?"

              "I think so", James Peter said to the cat and scratched behind his ears.  In the kitchen a pot of milk was put on the stove to boil and a saucer was set out for Mr. Druthers. The milk started to boil and the cocoa powder was spooned in.  A sweet aroma filled the air.  A chocolatey aroma which made James Peter realize that he hadn't had a proper hot cocoa since he had been a boy.  With that a wave of nostalgia hit James Peter; he remembered sipping from a large mug of hot cocoa, sitting by the fire with his siblings while his father told them all stories.  He smiled and one more tear rolled gently down his cheek.  James Peter was almost certain the memory of his childhood is what he had been dreaming about. He drank his hot cocoa at the table while Mr. Druthers lapped up his milk. With a warm feeling in his stomach and piece of mind James Peter set off back to bed with a content Mr. Druthers in tow.

On a Hillside

            On a hillside, in the Summer sun, lay a girl, but not just any girl, an exceptionally world -weary girl named Samantha Curnswallop. After each breath she inhaled there followed a tremendous sigh as if the act of breathing or perhaps lying in the sun was a horrible burden evilly put upon her shoulders to carry.  This wasn't too far from the truth as Samantha's mother had practically banished her from the house saying, "Honey, why don't you go spend some time outside? Its beautiful out! And why don't you leave your cellphone here? Enjoy nature for a bit!"

    Samantha had stood aghast at the "no cellphone" part of the command. She knew her mother was serious, but what had she done to deserve the butt of such malice? Such utter hatred? Samantha trudged out the back door and into the sunlight.  Each stomped footfall was a plea for sympathy from some higher power, or anyone really! And now Samantha lay on the hillside feeling utterly betrayed and ostracized and not enjoying the sunlight whatsoever.  What was the point, really, when she had no way of keeping her friends updated as to what she was doing. Meanwhile up above the clouds drifted by with a certain laziness that Samantha herself would envy and try to emulate in a few years time, but not today, no not yet. Today was for sighing, not for enjoying. Little did she know the day was soon to turn around...