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Old 10-30-2017, 06:29 PM   #1
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Last cloud in the lost skies

It's been said, in one form or another, that a persons' best days often start out as a mystery to them. Not following the script or deviating from the plan, letting go of life's pressures and going where the moments take you.

That's how it all began for us one autumn morning, which lent itself to a glorious day we'd not soon forget. The air was crisp as the leaves began to turn high above our country estates, the armada of billowing puff and wispy marshmallow creme strung out on the rising sun greeted us in a stunning display of colors that would eventually give way to a brilliant shade of blue.

It's times like this you feel less pain in your life than you possibly should or probably deserve. It's also these moments when one feels alone with their spirit, like the last person on earth, or perhaps anywhere. All of this was made for you, and of course, the birds stirring up in their nests as they awake to natures show.

After a breakfast fit for a queen, my partner and i decided to get outside and enjoy the majesty of this day. At first we planned on doing some yard work but eventually we chose instead to go for a walk around the neighborhood. Living in the country we were able to escape the horrors of the big city while still having neighbors close enough to not feel isolated. Our community consisted of small acreage home sites, all of the lots were wooded and most of the homes sat up on a hill overlooking the winding streets below.

As we began our leisurely pace i noticed something across the street that caught my eye, a shiny black sinister looking car in the driveway that i had not seen before. As we approached the house it dawned on me what the car was; a 1987 Buick GNX, still in mint condition, shining in all of it's glory. I stopped in the road and stared up at this now classic machine, solid black paint, blacked out grill, black wheels, and dark tinted windows, this was one of the cars i lusted after in high school, a time capsule from my childhood sitting right there looking like the day it rolled off of the assembly line.

The neighbor walked out of the house with some family members to show them the car, as he noticed us he waved and naturally we went up for a closer look. He was going over the car with the family as we walked up to them. The look on my face must have been plain for all to see. I still couldn't believe my eyes...he probably paid a fortune for this mint condition car, the last of the Grand Nationals, highly collectible and very limited production.

As the family poured inside the car to smell the "30 year old new car smell" i was standing in front of the beast staring at the bulging hood. I asked him to unlatch it for me so i could gaze at that turbo charged motor and see if it still resembled the memories of my youth.
After he pulled the release lever, instinctively i released it and raised it as if it were my very own. I'd probably done that a hundred times before in my dreams. He just smiled at me, perhaps knowing i was a like a kid in a candy store all over again.

The dream was over once i raised the hood, however, in fact it turned to shock instantly. Underneath that hood dome, laying on top of the intake plenum, was a tiny infant little boy, wearing only a diaper. He peering up at me with those giant blue eyes, kicking his legs and waving his arms. He didn't make a sound though, he just stared at me with those beautiful eyes, as if i was the first person he'd ever seen. I was beyond speechless, stunned, taken back in a way like something had just kicked me in the gut. I might have been white as a ghost until i was finally able to catch my breath and get my wits about me. Which was around the same time i heard one of the family members from inside of the car stick the key in the ignition, with the proud new owner next to them looking in, giving the green light to start; "Go ahead...crank her up......."
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Old 10-31-2017, 01:40 AM   #2
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Another masterpiece, Mrs. Garrison, just in time for Halloween!
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Old 10-31-2017, 07:47 AM   #3
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I'm coming as Mrs Garrison for Halloween.
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Old 10-31-2017, 04:19 PM   #4
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Another masterpiece, Mrs. Garrison, just in time for Halloween!
Thank you, there's more to come....



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I'm coming as Mrs Garrison for Halloween.
Since Balls McCone was found stuffed inside of an old abandoned mailbox i will be going as Red Ships of Scalla Festa
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Old 10-31-2017, 09:48 PM   #5
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And guess who'll be coming as The Slow Loris? U2popmofo of course.
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Old 11-01-2017, 06:23 AM   #6
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I'm thinking of an old Kurt Cobain song here..
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Old 11-01-2017, 09:44 AM   #7
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come, as you are...
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Old 11-02-2017, 02:00 AM   #8
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Thank you, there's more to come....



YAY!
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Old 11-02-2017, 06:32 AM   #9
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come, as you are...
Somewhere I have heard this before
In a dream my memory has stored
As defense I'm neutered and spayed
What the hell am I trying to say?



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YAY!
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Old 11-02-2017, 09:44 AM   #10
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Come on do the shit hotdog
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Old 12-07-2017, 01:03 PM   #11
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At the end of our neighborhood sat an abandoned mansion, high up on the hill and peering out above the tall pines. It had been deserted for a while after the owners had deceased, and occasionally the family would try and sell this home but would eventually disagree over the offers and end up squabbling like grown children sometimes do when it comes to matters of money and inheritance.

We had noticed the old house many times before on our walks through the neighborhood, while it may have been in need of repair it always had this majestic presence about it. Perhaps because it sat a bit higher than most, or maybe it was the location at the end of the neighborhood, which put it on this pedestal. Whatever it was about this old home, there was clearly a sense of awe and intrigue surrounding it. Should someone purchase it and make all of the necessary improvements it would be the premier home in the neighborhood.

As we walked under the glorious metallic blue sky we came to the point in the road where we were facing the house at the end of the street and it was all but looking back at us, perched above the pines like a fortress in need of an army. We walked towards it as if we were drawn into some invisible magnetic field. I can't even recall how many times we would walk on by....but not today. At the bottom of the hill we could look up the winding driveway and see and older compact car sitting outside of the vast estate. The car might have looked vaguely familiar but it wasn't immediately obvious to us.

We climbed the curvy drive up until the land gave way to a series of steps, all of which were covered with rust colored leaves that had fallen from some of the trees, bare in the breeze of days past. The front door was a spectacular wooden beast, curved at the top, with a bronze lions head door knocker greeting us in a permanent roar. Just as I started to knock the massive door opened as i reached for the brass knocker.

The realtor on the other side of the door looked a bit startled when he found us outside on the porch. He was in fact someone that we had met before in a past life, in the wilder days of our youth. As we exchanged the usual pleasantries with the realtor, we couldn't help but notice his appearance was a bit on the rough side for someone in his career field. He invited us into the home to take a mini tour of the palace, apologizing in advance for the dusty conditions of the vast and vacant estate.

As he guided us around the house it was obvious to us just how much potential was here, this home could be a castle with the right amount of investment, however there was a lot of work that would be required to get it to that point. The realtor was careful to keep us on the ground floor only, and steered us away from the ominous staircase that went up into the darkness, depths unknown. He guided us through a fancy dining area complete with an antique 12 foot dining table and an exquisite chandelier overhead. Through the formal dining area was a landing that's sole purpose was to advertise the outdoor entertaining area by way of a wall of windows which brought the outside in with dramatic results. The outdoor area was a sight to behold, a large expanse of concrete gave way to a covered pool, which was littered in a colorful array of the seasons finest fallen leaves, and after that the yard tapered off downhill at a rate in which the treetops would give way to miles of the eventual valley below. A blinking tower off in the distance was a good reminder of where God's creations stopped short and let man intervene.

At either side of the patio there was a carefully crafted stone railing with additional garden statues and fountains to remind us of the detail and craftsmanship that went into constructing this palace. It was here that our realtor friend found a table with chairs in the sunlight and invited us to sit and join him for a glass of wine or two. We would catch up on old times once forgotten, the nights we chased the moon and fell victim to the sun, the days that ended when the next one began, and so forth. Part of us missed those days, the other part of us realized we couldn't survive that type of life anymore, and thankfully so! We did notice the realtor seemed to be on a bit of a stretch himself, his clothes appeared to have been slept in, his hair a bit unkempt, not quite the same person we had remembered from our former glorious youth.

The wine itself had an awkward taste about it, while we couldn't quite place what was different about it, there was a sweetness where there shouldn't have been, and a warmth where you wouldn't quite have expected it. Whatever the case, it was in fact quite intoxicating. After finishing my glass i rose up as if to suggest it was time for us to go, but instead of letting us off of the hook, the realtor insisted that we have another glass with him, suggesting that he had a fresh bottle inside in the wine cellar. Reluctantly we agreed to another glass with him, as he hopped up and scurried away for another bottle. I followed him inside and through the maze of a kitchen into the dimly lit wine cellar, which seemed unusually warm to me.

The realtor seemed again startled when he noticed i was there behind him, however he pointed me to another room adjacent to the kitchen which was apparently a small restroom. I went inside and closed the large door behind me, fortunate to note the running water and working electricity in the otherwise dark room. I splashed water on my face and admittedly swayed a bit when making the side step from the vintage sink over to the commode. As i lifted the commode seat upright, the light above the vanity mirror was reflecting into the water, which appeared to be moving. As i focused in closer to the water it appeared as if i was looking into a mirror, and shockingly that someone or something was standing directly behind me. Immediately i turned around but there was nobody there behind me. A sudden chill overcame me and i began to feel somewhat light headed.

Making my way back through the kitchen area and through the dining room i found the doors that led me back to the outside entertaining area, where my partner and the realtor were laughing at old stories like old friends often do. They became somewhat quiet as i approached the table. The realtor handed me a glass of wine while my partner commented that i looked as though i had "seen a ghost". I smiled politely on the outside while feeling a bit, let's say, anxious on the inside.

I noticed a hawk watching me from a distance atop a bare tree as i sipped on the glass from the new bottle. This one had a stronger aroma to it than the previous glass, and there was a warmth and texture that was slightly more intense than before. As i sipped it i began to feel a bit uncomfortable about finishing this glass from the new bottle he had retrieved in the cellar. The realtor just smiled and chimed in "1993...was a good year!" to which my partner raised his glass in agreement. I noticed the hawk had flown away from it's perch atop the tree and decided to ask why this particular wine was so warm?

The realtor had a look of momentary regret on his face as he sensed i was not impressed with the wine. He sighed as he gazed at me through golden round frames, "The good book tells us that Jesus himself turned water into wine. We are, in fact, mostly made from water, as well as the earth. While i suspect you are used to having your wine chilled, or at least room temperature, this particular vintage requires to be served neither chilled or room temperature, rather instead it must be stored and served at normal human body temperature."
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Old 12-09-2017, 05:45 AM   #12
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just then in walked the devil
said I'm gonna take you down
mister stagger lee
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Old 12-09-2017, 08:31 AM   #13
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"Well, just count the holes in the motherfucker's head"
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Old 12-10-2017, 02:22 AM   #14
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You certainly do have a way with words, Mrs. Garrison!
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Old 12-10-2017, 09:34 AM   #15
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You certainly do have a way with words, Mrs. Garrison!
Or maybe it's the words that have their way with me, i'm just the vessel...
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