Today is Carol’s birthday; the skies are blue and the sun is shining. – Six hours later, mid-afternoon. The sun stopped shining five hours and fifty-five minutes ago. It is warm though.
You received a call from Wayne early on and tomorrow they are taking out the countertops and putting in the granite. So, you have had a busy day cleaning out the countertops as well as the kitchen and desk drawers so the men can do their work. You had a late lunch at Panera/Chipotle and a Graeter’s child’s scoop in a cup for dessert. Presently you are at Kroger’s on Tylersville – the regular routine. Alta’s best turkey soup for tomorrow as there will be no hook up for Kitchen water.
I have been reading on in Steve Job’s bio but am ready to work away on scene five. I have no idea how or when we are transitioning back to the Greek counterparts but I’m sure there will be civilized way to do so.
It would be interesting to see a biography on everyone alive. The semi-private life, friends and colleagues who have influenced, the interest (passions) as well as contributions. I think of all my friends who I am close enough to for envisioning such a biography – they would all be an interesting read to see how their life has moved along with their ages. Everybody is who they are.
Richard, that is the purpose of the Grandma’s stories, biographical vignettes – a remembrance the person had once dead. – Amorella
Oh. I didn’t think about that. Nobody will ever notice that stuff, Amorella. I didn’t even think about it myself. I like to think of writing as an art form – and it is for some; but for me it’s a hodgepodge – a really serendipitous hodgepodge for binding. Am I trying to be secretly clever? I hope not because if so I am not doing well at it. Besides, cleverness takes forethought and direction.
Don’t concern yourself, boy. The forethought on the books and blog are mine, not yours. If you eventually complete book six you will sense the completeness of the Merlyn’s Mind series, not before. – Post. Amorella Nearing the usual suppertime culminating with the national news, usually on NBC and you have found additional images from Wales, Scotland and Ireland to use as descriptive backdrops to Avalon.
***
Early continuation of scene five:
Arthur sighed, still wondering about Guinevere when he noticed a small leaf down to the right of the slight waterfall begin to flutter as if it were waving to Arthur’s own illusion of life. He focused sure that at home on Earth he would have spied a small insect or two causing the commotion. The thought charged an instant reminder of where he was and why. He smiled to himself thinking, ‘when I was alive it was the same, I was king but when alone I had my doubts any of it was really real – an illusion by a great magician, by God himself.
“Hello, my young friend,” said a familiar though hesitant masculine voice from the flat stone above the foliage within a dead hand’s distance of the now arrhythmic leaf.
***
Tomorrow will be busy. Post. - Amorella 
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