Up earlier, breakfast eaten and the Sunday paper read. Carol is talking to Kim on the phone while you changed the bed sheets and played with Jadah the Cat. A cooler and cloudy mid-morning but cloudy, and you wonder how the day is going to be. - Amorella
I need to focus on me [Amorella] telling the story in an AP World Literature setting with my memory of 37 years of my best eighteen year old students in the classroom. So, while the story is not necessarily for public consumption it may fit the bill for high school juniors, seniors, college, graduate and life-experienced students of all ages. I need to have my teacher face on when I write and assume those in the classroom are taking notes. "Most of the best literature focuses on the basic human condition and this three volume story is about just that." (I do have some literary and historical knowledge about this 'classroom experience'.)
The boy is getting psyched up. Post. - Amorella
You see, here is the situation, in a sense of personal authenticity you have told your story to an Angel, and now, as you are still alive, the Angel directs you to write the story for your former students, as if they may choose read or listen to it. Nothing wrong with that circumstance, and it allows you to fondly remember your classroom experiences both formal, informal and even with me, the Amorella.
1027 hours. If nothing else my imagination has a good school bell ring to it. But suddenly giving it away free as I was thinking, doesn't seem right because it would appear to me that I would be pontificating and in a sense giving out religious or political leaflets. The fictional trilogy is with intent for the reader to think and wonder on, nothing more.
The "Angel" in my paragraph is your concern here. Let's keep that in your imagination where it came from. - Amorella
After noon and you have been busy with exercises an long bath but no nap. Carol is on the phone with her sister. Probably you will be out to lunch and/or outdoor lamp shopping. We will work on your literary imagination and skills later. Under your new considerations the work will be cleaned up some. Strange how you can say what you want when you think you are 'talking' to an Angel, but a trilogy for former students needs to be more subtle and therefore more polite. Different audience, boy. - Amorella
I don't want to be lecturing, just storytelling, like the stories I did between and among the lectures to keep some of them interested or at least awake.
Carol is reading for lunch out. Post. - Amorella
1456 hours. We are at Barnes and Noble's after lunch at Potbelly's in Kenwood. Next stop Walmart and perhaps a Graeter's before heading home. I have the bathroom and kitchen floors to do. The last time they were done was in June when Kim and Paul were here for a week.
You are feeling a bit apprehensive about your new challenge and hope you are up to your psyched hype. - Amorella
I am. Almost like beginning a new year of school and almost at the right time as Mason begins this week. The morning stars, particularly Orion is coming up on the southeast horizon. Like planting crops, that's what I also thought of the concepts involved in grammar and literature, seeding begins in the fall rather than spring. I was in tune with nature in those days or I tried to be. As the British canon moved through the year so did the sun and stars and seasons. In tune with Mother Earth, half Druid-like I was in those days at least in my inner persona. I have not thought about that in years, about the way it was in my head. And, that was a long, long time before my DNA testing at Oxford, before I knew I was Scottish on the paternal side back some nine thousand years. (1512)
Looks like good timing to me, to make this change. You have to put your words where the heart is strongest, boy. Nothing wrong with your making the change. As long as you allow me to interweave the essentials of books four, five and six into books one, two and three. You have your reasons and I have my own. Post. - Amorella
It is closing in on 1800 hours and you and Carol are reading at your usual location in far north Pine Hill Lakes parking lot. Carol is on page 24 of Sandra Brown's Lethal for an R&R and you have downloaded and read over the basics and simplified rules of billiards from Wikipedia Offline. - Amorella
I used to play and was pretty good, particularly in high school. My old friend and classmate Jerry Beaver's father, John, owned the bowling alley in Uptown Westerville in those days and at home they had an 'authentic' old pool table just like at the billiard's parlor Uptown. It was owned by Mr. Nutt. I had his wife, Mrs. Nutt for sixth grade. She was a wonderful teacher! Anyway, I had watched/studied people playing at the pool hall since I was about five after Dad came home from the war. We were up there for an hour or so once or twice a week. I sat and was humored by these old guys, especially when the spit in the spittoons. I liked to remember whether they hit their mark or not. I think that is the truth. I do remember checking out the spittoons at the end of the day; gross and yucky stuff mostly because most of the old men were chewing tobacco as was Dad. It was somewhat fun to be there as a kid mostly because my grandmothers and mom did not think I should be taken in there. I played in college too, one of my favorite places was at the fairly new OSU student union (at the time) because unlike the old pool hall decor it was very cool, sharp and clean with colored felt on the tables. The problem is that it cost more than Uptown Nutt's 'more-old-time-manly-oriented' establishment. It always was rather dark and somehow unseemly with a sense of immorality about it. As Westerville was home of the Anti-Saloon League it was no doubt the driest town in the world at the time. Nutt's establishment was the closest thing to a run down bar that we had in old Uptown Westerville, or so it seemed to a kid like myself.
You had a light supper, Carol is finishing the Sunday paper, you cleaned the upstairs bathroom floors and are now ready to finish "The Dead - One". Let's get to it. - Amorella
This is the full version of the chapter one selection, "The Dead".
***
"The Dead - One"
This Merlyn. The date is 15 December 2009. I have been here among the Living since Merlyn’s Mind was published in May 2008. This is certainly not the earthly reality I bodily left in the fourteenth century. The earthly pressures are almost overwhelming to this old mindanheart. He thought, I am half a mind living, half a mind dead.
Your spirit shares a link with Richard's spirit within this enwrapped fold, Merlyn. I have invited your Mother to join us, says the Supervisor.
Upon hearing Mother's name Merlyn felt his own mindanheart for the first time while riding piggy back in the physical senses of Richard the Writer. 'I do not like the Living,' whipped from his mind only to snap and draw pain, a small quake to the ever protective soulshell Merlyn would just as soon forget he had. 'It is like wearing armor,' shot from mind to soul to heart. A flat billiard table like mind with round moody billiard ball thoughts rolled from one pocket to the other and always rolling back down into the mind that cued them forth. Noisy and angry thoughts from a spirit that did not enjoy heranhis immediate setting. The smells of living earth are no different than the mind-memory smells in HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither. 'Which I gather is not that far away,' rolled out in mischief and straight down to a corner pocket. 'I am sick at heart,' popped out from the opposite corner pocket and rolled uncued and unpocketed.
Hello, Merlyn, said Mother who proceeded to sit on the flat billiard table of Merlyn's mind. He is one of my seemingly endless offspring' most of whom are dead but presently nowhere special, mostly because they don't have the heartansoulanmind for it, or imagination either for that matter, she added to her now solid black ball that sat on Merlyn's table in her place. "It is confusing to you Merlyn, to be in the present, past and future at once."
The Supervisor smiled at Merlyn's silent dilemma. Merlyn understood immediately that Mother knew his every position.
'Mother may know everything,' stayed stuck in a pocket. A quiet near invisible smirk crossed one of Merlyn's balls near a middle pocket. The black ball, Mother, caught the smirk's slight reflection. 'But I have been taught the understanding.' 2126 'Side pocket' not 'middle pocket'. The King's English has evolved just as we all have. Would have been kinder for my memory of language if Richard had been born and raised in County Kent.
"Almost three years and still adjusting to the twenty-first century, Merlyn," stated Mother.
Merlyn "Are you, our Mother, Gloama, granddaughter of Panagiotakis, our original genetic Mother of all living human being today, or are you her ancient Greek look-alike, Sophia?"
"From the time of the Rebellion?"
"The very same."
Unballed, and feminine Gloama suddenly stood slim, dark skinned and royal at her former living height of five feet with shoulder length curly coal black hair; the modern-minded billiard table became a Queen's throne in Merlyn's mind which struck to his heart. He bowed slight and took a step back and said, "m'Lady."
Amused, Gloama politely asked, "When did you see Sophia and the other three?"
"They were in charge of building the bridge across the River Styx." It was only hours ago, thought Merlyn, that I witnessed the beginning of the Rebellion in HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither, that was during the time of the Greek storyteller, Homer. A blink of the eye away.
The Supervisor interrupted Merlyn's thought: 'We are in the six-dimensional ChessBoards Box, Merlyn. As long as you are in the Box you are Dead and Living both at once. Mother is among the Dead and you see her here in a dream. I am the only one Real."
It is all a dream, a dead man's dream, thought Merlyn, yet here I am with heartansoulanmind in the past, present and future at once. I am a Verb-Form, my human spirit is a linking verb. I have the spine for it, that's what Mother want said to me, then I was summarily dismissed as she calls or dismisses her children at her whim. The Supervisor, he is another story, but ultimately he controls this one. Wait. Today's date is Sunday, 19 August 2012.
***
All for tonight. Don't forget to take the trash out. Post. - Amorella
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