Daily Music Selection
Written by Millie Jenny C. Another of lifes blips …on the radar screen of life. Adjusting to the changes, in a daily routine That had perhaps become too routine. Of course, answering the phone is also a routine But a sense of accomplishment can felt When I feel I can help someone dial one… less… number. Not so much so when I have to tell someone Something they dont want to hear. 5/3/2002 ______________________________________________ Copyright 2002 Millie Jenny C all rights reserved
Written by Sennebec I dont think it was just my imagination. Everything had gotten progressively weirder as summer dawdled on. Red tide was worse than ever, blight was wiping out potatoes, tomatoes and blueberries, perpetual rain which usually segued into dry hot weather in July had lingered until the first of August and the tourists were so discouraged, the state had set up a crisis hotline to keep them from killing locals when they jumped from their hotel room windows. The heat and humidity had certainly done a number on me. I had barely enough energy to drive home after closing the library, open my mail and maybe cook something. More often than not, Id slap together cold leftovers and eat on the deck while making a futile effort to fend off mosquitoes who were now approaching hummingbirds in size. Everyone expressed the same opinion around Simonton; it was too hot to stay outside, too humid to do more than sweat gracefully and by Godfrey, if its like this next summer, Im moving out west, wildfires be damned. It was after midnight on August 16th, my late fathers birthday. The double thunder shower which had made watching tv or answering…
Written by Ken Carman I can only say what being dead is like for me. I cannot speak for the others. What follows is what I sense, what I saw: more accurately “didn’t see.” In the world that was, there is no more “me.” The physical me turned ash within days. Yet the “spirit,” if you wish, was stuck here where I died. No “looking down upon myself from the ceiling.” Maybe that’s what happened to others. Being dead is, at first, like taking a test in school and suddenly finding out you put so many answers in the wrong places. You thought about erasing all your wrong choices as you die but you’ve run out of time. I had been simply watching TV with my wife when I felt the hammer hit my chest. It was “sledge” in nature. I couldn’t speak; just sit there in more pain than I had ever felt before. Then… nothing except watching the scene… detached. I saw them come and get my body: my wife couldn’t pick me up… through she tried, hoping to get me to a emergency room. I don’t fault her, besides: I was dead already. She just didn’t know…
