Erick Came Back

 

In attendance were five doctors, two registered nurses, one collage professor and a borrowed stenographer from the courthouse.  There were two running tape recorders and one video camera.  Nothing was left to chance. 

Doctor Reynolds spoke first.  He introduced himself for the recordings and then pointed to Erick to begin.

“State your name and then just tells us your story in your own words.” 

Erick looked nervous but cleared his throat and began.

“It was like someone had flipped a switch, like a light switch and suddenly everything about me shut off.  My vision went black, I could hear nothing, not even the internal chatter that seems to always be talking in my head.   There was nothing.  I didn’t feel myself fall.  There was no sensation at all.  Everything simply shut off.  I don’t know how else to describe it.” 

“Doctor Edwards, here.  You realize you’re asking us to believe you were dead and then came back?”

Erick: “I know it sounds strange, but that’s what happened.  I didn’t see any light, like people say.  There was no tunnel or sound of any kind.  And besides, you guys are the ones that pronounced me dead.”

Doctor Edwards: “So there were no dead friends or relatives there to greet you?”

Erick: “I can tell you this much, and don’t ask me how I know, but I do.  There are things that happen here, that we never see.” 

Doctor Reynolds: “Like what, Erick?” 

Erick: “You see a helicopter flying along and that’s all we see.  Don’t ask me how, but I know for a fact that whenever the blades of the helicopter pass through a cloud, the blades are like the beaters on a mixer, but instead of sending mashed potatoes all over the kitchen, it sends the clouds spinning and splattering off, flying in all directions.  I have no idea why something like that is invisible to us, but it is.”

 

 

STOP TAPE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Daze of the Weak

 

Concerned that I can’t learn it all
worse yet is failing my recall,
and soon they’ll be nothing at all
Oh what’s to become of me?

My cash reserve has dwindled so
even pocket change is low,
can’t stay here and I can’t go
Oh what’s to become of me?

Both my shoes are badly worn
I’m nowhere like when I was born
my muscles ache from A to Z
Oh what’s to become of me?

Perhaps I’ll simply lay down here
and wait until there’s no one near,
I’ll quietly exit life’s highway
Oh wait, tomorrow’s Friday.

 

 

 zc

Wildlife at Sunset

 

Just a slight departure from my gibberish.

In the News

 

Rumors that a pirate slipped into town under the cover of darkness surfaced again this week when his ship was discovered along the edge of Black Bay.

Local shopkeepers have been alerted to watch for any increase in eye-patch sales, or sales involving a single shoe.

 

 

 zc

 

The Pain of Dying

 

I believe the difficulty of passing from this life to the next is due to the same system that prevents us from going the wrong way.  Severe soul damage may occur. 

 

 

 

Open to the Public

 

I expect that when I run out of coffee, I’ll no longer linger selecting just the right word to put next, or which subject I should address.  Not that coffee is my primary motivation, but it is an important tooth on the gear of creation.   

I’m sure there is an entire selection process in choosing which coffee bean goes into the blend.  I know I use only filtered water and no more than a teaspoon of sugar.  Each cup tastes the same as the last.  My subconscious expects it.  Just as my sentence structure requires a proper feel, so it blends into the paragraph, absent of difficult to pronounce words or unfamiliar phrases.  Reading without potholes has always been my goal. 

You, of course, see only the finished product.  You never hear the gears turning or smell the machine oil.  You get to stay behind the rope, wearing your hard hat and safety glasses, out of harm’s way.  Never getting hit by a run-on sentence or tripping over a dangling participle. 

As long as I’m here, there will never be a charge for admission.  The only advertising you might run across will be done without raising the volume to grab your attention, and never any pop-ups.  They are infrequent and tastefully done, by yours truly. 

There are two large boxes at the exit.  Please deposit your safety glasses and hard hat when you leave.  Should you leave a comment, feel free to say what you like.  No salesman will call, and we do not sell your information.

 

 Thank you

 

zc

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Survival 101

 

Should you discover my heart along the trail, please stop long enough to say, “Hi”.  I left it behind as when I was there, I fell in love with the view, the mountain air and the crisp morning breeze.  I never wanted to leave.  If with you, you have your guitar, feel free to strum along with the woodland tunes.  The forest creatures will surely enjoy it. 

Here’s the thing, I wasn’t in the mountains, there was no spectacular view and the air I was breathing was pumped in from the furnace.  I just find that one of the joys of being human is our ability to imagine.  It is the primary attribute allowing us to survive the shenanigans of our government.

 

 

 

 

 

zc (2 cents worth)