FDAFN: Day 6-10, Old thoughts come in handy

She told me her father used to hang two cherries, stuck together by stems, behind her ears.  She, being Greek, loved nature and exotic sexual things.  Fruit, yogurt and granola-olive oil, fish and lamb, pita bread and hummus, wine and whisky, glass bottles with golden raisins in the bottom, incorporated a good feeling.  Our bodies loved nutrition.  She claimed to have a cherry tree in her backyard while she was growing up; however, I never saw it.

I would bike miles for breakfast and a glimpse into her attic.  The sun would hit my shoulders and the top of my head on the uphill ride to where she lived.  I would be late, but my excuse was always valid and accepted.

I would wake in her attic as the sun slipped in through the window.  We had a lot of high quality drinks; she would drive home from the bar with the freedom of one who has no guardian.  She never liked to be told what to do.  Complete control of her situation seemed evident.  She was free.  One chance time that I spent the evening I woke mid-day to her father climbing the stairs, the very next day I woke to her mother in the same spot.  She told me to hide under the blankets and not make a sound.  I did, but I listened to this unfamiliar language.

Some Greek dialogue was shared that I did not understand and when I asked the words were not revealed.  I was later told what was said.  I was suspected of carrying a stray apparition.  I was accused of bringing evil into the house.

The downstairs seemed darker, the path walked from between both houses; her parents next door and her house seemed like a lost void.  They could tell when I was there.  If you looked across you could see a window staring back at your; mostly empty, yet other times occupied by silhouettes.  You could see into their home from her attic window.

While she showered I would sit in the attic alone and read.  I peaked her diary one time.  My name was in it a lot.  The chick-scratch free hand was attractive; it said I have character and you should not be reading this.  I was curious as to what this specter was all about.  I read on.  I read.  She could see me clearly.  She knew who I was.  All was told in this tiny book of her’s.  She knew and she could see, walking behind me, this transparent female form.  She could see it.  I neglected to ask her anything more about it.  I did not want her to know that I read her diary and I did not care to hear about a malignant female following me around.  I moved on.

We talked a bit more and by the end of the summer things changed.  We distanced ourselves and I lost touch. 

A storm came over the buildings near my house.  The black clouds were hitting the ground it was not a tornado, a swallowing crushing cloud, black as night, but not a tornado.  The clouds moved closer to where I stood crushing trees and hiding what evidence of its destruction deep behind it.  A lady near me covered her daughter’s eyes and ran crying in the opposite direction struggling as she carried her.  I stood.  I stood in shock.  Behind the black cloud of crushing depth was red, explosive fire in the sky.  Everything was moving in slow motion as I stood still waiting for the darkness to hit.  I could not make it to my house.  I ran into an alley and hid behind a wooden fence.  A black helicopter flew out of the wall of the cloud sideways and crashed to the ground in a ball of fire.  People ran not knowing where, but away, screaming and yelling to their loved ones.  I peaked out from the fence and a man on a motorcycle with a gun yelled as he shot horizontally at people running, “You praise your power company, you praise them now!”  I ducked again as he repeated what he said.

I woke up on a leather couch in La Crosse, WI.  I woke up and went back to sleep fast.  Immediately, I woke up on my balcony in Loring Park.  The cloud was gone and people I have never met were talking of it.

A girl grabbed my hand and told me she loved me.  She had a baby stroller in front of her and she had a doubtful smile.  An uneasy feeling of the apocalypse was about.  I didn’t say anything.  I stood still, holding her hand.  A moment later the crowd I was in, of about ten to twenty, started screaming and looking at the sky.  A mirage of color, rainbow in pattern, came down on us first.  The clouds drew closer, black as coal, and just as they touched down on the roof of the building all of the stars illuminated in the sky and went out.  The stars blew out like candles being blown to smoking wicks, nothing after but a trail ephemeral white smoke.  The girl turned to me and said she had been following me for sometime now and she rather liked the Greek girl, why did I lose touch.  She told me that, kissed me, and everything went black.

I woke up on a leather couch in La Crosse, WI.  My heart was beating fast although I just woke up from a midmorning nap.


About Terry Scott Niebeling

Hello, My name is Terry Scott, a human being with flaws. twitter: @sirterryscott Buy my ebooks: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1/191-4788099-1818040?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=terry+scott+niebeling
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