From the Grave

I was doing some cleaning and found these old poems. Here is one of them-

From the Grave

The feel of death has touched me

However slight it may have been

It crept in ever so slowly

Trying to fill as much space as it can

I felt its dread and darkness

Its weight and ever searching loneliness

I felt its urgent need

My soul it must caress

I tried to shut it out

But none- the- less it stayed

Farther in it crept

From its path it never swayed

Until it filled my entire being

My body and my soul

Then it left so swiftly

What could have been its goal?

*Note: Written February 6, 1983 Dedicated to Harry A. Bradford. I awoke from a dream screaming. As occurs I knew it was one of those dreams. The dream was me trapped under the house trailer that we lived in. The space was small and tight. I didn’t like it. I felt claustrophobic. Then I looked around in the dark and noticed that underneath me were lots of bodies, dead bodies. I remember thinking “There is some sort of mistake. I do not belong here.” I started to scream and I smelled this thick carnation smell. It made me want to puke it was so strong.

That day I was a wreck worried about my family. Were they in danger? How could I save them? What was I supposed to save them from?

While on my way to work the next day I started to smell that sickly sweet carnation smell. I wanted to vomit. I was so nauseous. The more I drove the sicker I felt and that smell was so intense. Ahead of me I saw a vehicle with its lights on come around a bend in the road. This was before running with your lights on was recommended. There were many cars behind it with their lights on as well. It was a funeral. The smell intensified and I almost threw up.

I drove on allowing the funeral to pass. I knew where it was heading. There was a cemetery on my way to work. After the caravan passed, the smell drifted away. I still felt sick but I think it was mostly from the shock of the event and the strength of the smell.

After work I went to the cemetery and found the grave. It was close to my fathers, a newer section of the cemetery. That night I took a white carnation from the grave. It had that very same smelled that made me ill during the dream and earlier that day when the hearse came around the bend.

The next day I went back and inquired from the grounds keeper who the was buried the day before. The man said it was the preacher. I later found the obituary for Harry A. Bradford.

This event stuck with me for a very long time. 

For this printing I tried to look up the obit for Harry. It turns out that he was born on September 15, 1930, he was 52 years old. I was born in September on the 18th. Just an eerie coincidence. I did an online search to find his obituary but was not successful. I will keep looking. I did find his date of birth and death, his age at death. And his social security number. That should not be accessible. Just saying. 

http://www.faqs.org/people-search/harry-bradford/#b this is where I found his information.

What I waited my whole life for...

happened to me the other day at work. I work 3rd shift at a convenience store by the highway. A woman walked in and up to the counter. I figured she wanted gas or cigarettes. Instead she told me that she had purchased my ebook (from info left on the counter at the store on a rack card) that morning.
"Yeah and she read it all day until it was finished," her husband added, kind of grumpy but laughing about it.
She said that she couldn't put it down! That just made my day- heck my life. I have always wanted to write something that someone could not put down. Being a huge James Patterson fan myself I had hoped to have that affect with my writing. Family and friends have said that they couldn't put it down, but when a complete stranger walks up to you so excited and wanted to read your next book. That was awesome stuff.
The readers name was Misty and I will always remember her and the day she walked into my store and made my day. Thanks Misty. I am so glad you liked it and that you felt compelled to share that with me.

Dream Fade

This is why you write it down as soon as you wake up:
I had an entire movie in my dream, all the plot twists and everything- from beginning to the bittersweet end. As soon as I awoke from this great dream I was racked with people problems. (The undream realm sucks sometimes) I had a cold and there was no moisture in the air because it was winter and I had just purchased a new heater. My mouth was completely parched, as in not even a drop of moisture to even swallow since my nose had been stuffed up by a cold and the only way I was getting any air at all was through my mouth, which was gaped open for hours while I slept.

So, I guzzle a drink from the tall glass of water I keep on my bedside table and guess what. Now I have this sudden urge to pee. But I have this incredible story to write down. But it will take so long to capture it all. I will just pee and then dash it off before I forget. I stumble down the hall in the dark; we only have on bathroom in our house, no on-suite, and I kept the light in the hall off so I didn't wake anyone.

Okay, so as I sit and do my business, I try to play back bits and pieces of the dream in my mind so I don't lose it.They were so clear upon waking, but they are starting to fade. Why did that movie take place in my head? What was so important about it? I have no idea, see I have already forgotten how it started. It is okay though, I can still remember the middle and the end. I can piece the beginning together later. Still okay. This will be a best seller. It is so awesome. Gotta get out of the bathroom and write it down. I know the beginning will come back to me as I write it down because I remember...ah...What? I remember...? Oh yeah, there was a woman at the end and she was important because...she...she...oh hell, it's all gone.

And that folks is what happened to the best selling thriller I never wrote!