The Dream Keeper

Technically ,you’re dying every day. But unlike Mary Smith, you don’t usually realize it the second you open your eyes. Mary saw the harsh, grey stain on her pillow and it (understandably) set off alarm bells in her brain. ‘Discolored stains, especially near the face, are not often good,’ she thought, and rushed to the bathroom. She saw herself in the mirror and saw the black substance was coming from her mouth. Only a dribble, though apparently constant enough to stain her pillow fairly badly. So stunned was she that she didn’t realize her mother was pounding on the door until she burse and wielding a frying pan, ready to bash Mary’s head in. “Mary, what in God’s name is wrong with you? You KNOW I have to be at work by eight thirty, and here you are, hogging the bathroom like a spoiled brat! What have you got to say?” Mary waited for the sudden understanding, that thousand-yard-stare at the sight of her own daughter drooling black, oily poison and clearly close to death. ...

The next post after this one will be the final Chapter of G:NH, and after that, of course, there's an Epilogue. So, before it happens, I'd like to ask whoever's been following me: What do you think? And how, based upon what you've read so far, do you think it will end? Cheers to whoever's been giving me daily views and over 350 looks at my blog so far. Your attention is well appreciated!    - Kent John Starrett, 2013

“Can’t  do it, just can’t do it…” “Sure you can, Hal. They’re just woods, nothin’ bad in ‘em.” “Well, there could be.” Kelly threw in. “With the Bears and Foxes and all………” “Shut up, Kelly.” Vern’s word went unquestioned in the gang. “You’ll be fine, Hal. Nuthin’ dangerous in those woods, I know, I’ve been through every forest in the state except this one.” “If there’s nothing there, then why aren’t we allowed in there?” Clara asked. “Because Parents are buzz-kills, plain and simple. Now, who wants to go with me?” Of course, because Vern’s word was unquestioned, they all raised their hands. Vern picked up his backpack, full of camping supplies, and straightened his hat. It was late in the Summer. Soon, School would begin, and the Camping Trips would start to become shorter and happen only on weekends, before eventually only lasting a night, and, when the Cold, bitter winter finally came, Schoolwork and the elements would choke out any and all remaining scraps of ...