someone of an unfamiliar truth.
― Patrick Rothfuss
Dance of Life
There's nothing worse than betwixt and between―where I was with Brooke and Angelica, torn between two beautiful women.
I knew most men would kill to be in my position, but, for me, it was torture.
Last thing I wanted was to toy with either woman's affections.
I cared for both of them, but had to persuade them for their own safety to stay with me at my cabin for nine months in order to escape the coming calamity that would surely befall the city.
It'd be a hard sell.
First of all, I had no idea how to orchestrate it. Should I invite the women to my house and put the idea to both of them and provide them with compelling reasons?
I already knew how Brooke reacted to Ben Church choosing me to interview Angelica. She was clearly jealous of her.
Well, how would she feel spending nine months out in the country navigating the shoals of sharing me with her―not that we were romantically involved... but what if that happened?
The whole situation was fraught, a veritable minefield, but one I had to navigate to try to save both women.
I decided on an open approach and contacted each and arranged a meeting at my house. I was up front with both of them and explained the other would be there and that it was a matter of extreme importance.
Surprisingly, both agreed to come. I was halfway there but the hardest part would be convincing them of the imminent danger.
But an unexpected event occurred that worked in my favour―the evening news declared that a plague had broken out caused by an unknown pathogen. An emergency quarantine was in effect throughout the city.
Just after seven that evening the three of us were seated in my front room in another blackout with a storm raging outside.
It was surreal, huddled like denizens of Plato's Cave, while the fire cast ominous shadows.
"These are dangerous times," Angelica was saying, "and I can sense evil and darkness all around us."
Brooke suddenly spoke up. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree. I'm not particularly religious―more of an agnostic, I guess, but it seems like the end times described in the Bible. I wonder if the plagues mentioned in Revelations are going to unfold before our eyes."
"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves," I cautioned. "All I know for certain is that there's going to be a prolonged blackout for at least nine months and cities will be almost uninhabitable. Add to that an outbreak of plague and it becomes a petrie dish of disease and contagion. Do you really want to stay and deal with that?"
The room went silent. For several minutes no one spoke and there were just the sounds of the fire crackling in the grate and thunder rolling across the sky above us.
"I'm a believer," Angelica whispered, " but I don't ascribe to the vision of the end times portrayed in Rapture films with everything happening according to a fixed timeline. I foresee a mystical uniting of all true believers and an and to this present darkness."
"Amen to that," Brooke smiled, lifting her coffee mug to toast Angelica's version of events. "I don't think things will happen in the cut and dried way a lot of people imagine. Bit I think in the end, light wins out over darkness."
""So, what do you say―are you willing to abandon the city and shelter at my cabin until this calamity subsides?"
Brooke shrugged her shoulders, "Sure, count me in―what choice do I have otherwise?"
I looked at Angelica who was staring into the flames, absorbed in her own musings. "So, how about you, Angelica―are you also willing to retreat to the cabin for nine months?"
She simply nodded. "We have no real choice, Zach and I'm thankful for your offer. It will be hard, but not as hard as staying in the city."
"Then we're agreed," I said solemnly. "Gather whatever clothes and personal care items you need and we'll leave together in two days."
Again, there was silence except for the low rumble of thunder off in the distance. "I think it best everyone stay here tonight and you can return to your homes in the morning and gather your things."
Both women nodded their agreement. It wasn't ideal, but it was a start.
I had no idea if this plan would even work out but the alternative was just too frightening. For the moment we had food and shelter and the support of each other―it was the best we could hope for while the world was coming apart around us.
Greetings, old friend...
It's far too long since I've made my way here to greet you. Nonetheless, I'm pleased by what I see. Not only have you been persevering in your writing, but it seems you're being more consistently and appropriately rewarded these days!
My only disappointment is that I had to scroll back some four months to find an instance of your beautiful poetry. As I recall, I at once time succeeded in goading/encouraging you to write more poetry... And so, emboldened by that memory, I'll wistfully ask for more? Pretty please? :)
John, I hope you are well and holding up despite the present global insanity. I was in New England not too long ago, and thought of you. Under any sane circumstances, I would have made a point of passing through your neighborhood, looking you up, and taking you and @countrygirl to dinner. Alas, the totally unhinged behavior and strictures of the 'powers that shouldn't be' made that utterly unthinkable.
Please say 'Hello' to your dear spouse for me! If the tyranny ever abates, and I'm "back east" during better days, I yet hold out the hope of greeting you both in person.
Blessings!
- @creatr
😄😇😉
Hi Creatr!
So glad to hear from you. Yes, I've persevered with Hive and am happy I did - the only thing I miss is the vibrant community we used to enjoy only a few short years ago. Hopefully, the witnesses can tweak it again to make it more participatory. I miss reader comments and feedback and but most of all the friendship we shared. I still keep in touch with a few ppl by email and I really do miss everybody. I pray for you and yours, and Lydon and fam, not to mention the others of course, but we had an unique community of friends and I wish we could get that back again.
Thanks for the encouragement, my friend, I don't seem to be received on here for poetry and I admit I stopped posting poems because of lack of enthusiasm and the fact that some of my best pieces went unnoticed and disregarded. I can't believe it still hurts when I wrote for years with no audience at all - I thought I was past that neediness, but I guess not. At any rate with regard to my fiction, they seem to like my pies and that's something, although quite honestly it pains me to call them fiction when they're part of my interior landscape and a huge chunk of my experience. Deb says I can't draw a line between what I write and live and I suppose that's true - that's why the well never seems to run dry and my latest experiences find their way onto the page. But you haven't been creatively engaged on here at all aside from the odd post - I hope that doesn't mean you're jaded and turned off of social media. Aw God, I feel like the mama in Langston Hughes's poem, Mother to Son...
So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
Ha ha, at least I can still laugh at my foibles, my friend. I'm so glad you reconnected, Creatr. Let's hang onto that because times are dark and we all need each other :)
Brother, it's good to "hear your voice!"
Thanks for responding.
What can I say? Much has transpired that cumulatively caused me to cut back on my writing... The madness of the world redirected my concerns to publishing on FakeBook, diatribes against the futile ineffectiveness of all the public "health" measures, screeds about my usual nemesis, the state. I turned to that bit of social media simply because it happened to be a more direct channel to reach family and friends than Hive.
But I've terribly missed the more communal days here! And I would love to see them revived.
I resemble your remarks about being needy; during my (not entirely complete) absence, I've written a few good things. Sadly, more than I care to acknowledge have been poetic tributes to close friends and family who have died. These are here on my Hive archive. I would of course treasure any comments you might have on anything I write, but here's another "recent" work I am fond of, inspired by my current project--to wit, I am attempting to read through the New Testament in the original Greek:
And, isn't it true of all writers that we write what we know?
John, my mother passed more than twenty years ago, and so I welcome any mothering you may care to do... ;) Thank you for the encouraging Hughes poem. If you do get a chance to check my blog, I think you'll see I haven't entirely abandoned the quill, though I'm jonesing to dip it again to write more theological fantasy stories...
In the good news department, I am now "fully retired," meaning that I can now--by Jesus/God's kindness--work on whatever I damn well please! :D
Do you expect to be transferring any of your recent serializations to print? Though I suspect they may be more durable right here where they are, in the long run... Just curious.
The project of greatest importance to me these days is a mission I'm on. It's a mission to see the proper emphasis upon the Gospel of the Kingdom restored to the church at large... I've devoted a new Library Shelf to that project, and it is now under weigh.
If I've missed any of your "best pieces," please point me in their direction...
And for now, I'll sign of; hoping to at least recover a little of the good old days here, as time goes by. :) I can't let mourning for the world totally disrupt my stride... ;)
BTW, I read it and commented, I'm in media res now but will say more later :)
<3
Oops...