Saturday afternoon. Outside it feels like late autumn. You are sitting in your favorite chair in the living room the cat is asleep in the oriental styled chair to your right (next to the window) and Carol is sitting on the floor below the front window next to the heating duct playing one of her iPad number or word games. You had jacked the heat up to seventy-five degrees for a few minutes as at seventy it felt cold inside. Outside it is fifty-six but a few hours ago it was forty-four.
It feels cozy like we are sitting by the fireplace with a fire, something we rarely do these days; it has probably been ten years since we had a fire. It is warming up. I’ll have to get out socks and slippers if this keeps up, back to wearing long pants and a sweatshirt already.
Today begins a new document file for the next three months as I divide the yearly notes by the season. I had 95052 words in the notes from July through September. Not all mine of course, a lot of backup feed from Wikipedia. Carol pulled a blanket from the back of the couch, then a couch pillow and has curled up by the heating duct and appears to be about to take a nap. Very unusual except in winter. Jadah is sitting up cleaning herself, pausing to check Carol out. – What a lazy and bleak afternoon this is. If I hadn’t just climbed off the floor from a nap a half hour ago I’d go back to sleep myself. – I knew it, a ‘chirp’ from the cat as she drops down to the floor to rest by her best and favorite human companion. Besides, she is cozying up next to the heating duct herself. Such a practical cat. I don’t think it is quite as cold as either of their actions show, but then I’ve got built in extra layers for this sort of climate. Seems like the conditions warrant me to dig up a book for reading rather than writing but I am not fancying any one of them at the moment.
So, slowly moves your Saturday afternoon. Post, then just take in the moment, old man. Sometimes you come up with a bark or two, but mostly you are harmless, that’s my perspective. Too much humanity in the room for the likes of me. – Amorella.
What does that mean? I thought you supported human interaction.
Later, you are sitting in your driveway waiting on Carol to change her dark shirt as it has cat hair all over it. We love our cat and are happy she is short haired rather than long. – Ran an errand and now are at Kroger’s on Tylersville. Creatures of habit.
Carol is making Alta’s excellent soup for dinner and we need a couple of things. Well worth the drive over as it is a good day for soup, no question about it. People are always interesting to watch, going in and coming out. Almost always when sitting I hear and see the helicopter landing or taking off from the two year old West Chester hospital north and across from Tylersville and Cox Roads, a north campus the well known University Hospital in downtown Cincinnati, one of the first if not the first hospital west of the Blue Ridge Mountains if I remember right – maybe the University of Cincinnati was the first medical school west of the mountains, instead. I need to get back to Ezekiel.
Drop the “something I am more sure about,” after Ezekiel.
I am more in control of the imagination and the writing and the reason than I am of the real world.
That’s a telling sentence. – Amorella.
It’s the truth with irony attached of course.
Much later still, but post anyway. – Amorella.
Almost time for bed and you have done some preliminary work on scene three, a draft of the introduction – that’s how you see it. Drop it in here, then post. It shows you have some evidence of work. – Amorella.
***
Scene 3
Alone, Ezekiel stared across the River Jordan thinking about how, when he died, he believed he would cross into a heavenly Israel; his idealized sense of a perfect Jewish Israel within the settlement of Angels and YHWH. Though it does not appear so, this River has more than two sides. I crossed on to be here in Sheol, the Place of the Dead before the final resurrection. I cross the River a second time and I . . . .
Ezekiel’ s mind fell into his soul and his heart followed directly to what he believed was a Never-Been-Born domain. Seven flat houses appear before my dead eyes and they rise in layers of fog or cloud above the River as I float in Never-Been. Archangel Gabriel raises the roof of the first house and the other five rise like a staircase each a house and a step up with a golden Angel waving a wand of light on the roof until the Holiest House, the Seventh, raises the last House, the House of Seraphim Walls create the a final Step, the Throne of Glory that cannot be seen for the shining golden angelic light. I stand on this mysterious shore of Sheol in a vision not made on living Earth. I cannot see but I am not blind to the other side of this great River. Ezekiel stared down and felt his bare feet on solid ground. He thought, ‘I am still on the shore of Sheol but my heart feels it has crossed over. I do not know what is the truth of this moment and my mind, as little as it has become, cannot confirm or deny who or what I am. . . .’
***
I have already begun to revise this scene as this is not what I copied from my notes only moments ago. I am here, sitting in the living room chair. Carol and the cat have recently gone up to bed. I will soon follow. The real world, the here and now of myself, sits and is about to go up to bed in Mason, Ohio, not a stone’s throw from the little Muddy Creek, one of the few streams in this part of the world that flows north to the Little Miami before it continues south to the great Ohio River, that’s the reality. Tomorrow morning it will be time, Lord willing, for me to climb out of bed, to get breakfast, and to read the Sunday paper. For you, orndorff, Fate appears to be habit forming. Enjoy your sleep. - Amorella.
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