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Re: [ticket2write] Re: A Halloween Tale (Wings)

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  • Van Gogh
    Indeed, Jerry, I did enjoy this. It reminded me very much of Everyman , except in that story, the person did not want to let go of anything. Thank you for
    Message 1 of 9 , Oct 31, 2009
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      Indeed, Jerry, I did enjoy this.  It reminded me very much of "Everyman", except in that story, the person did not want to let go of anything.
      Thank you for the pleasure,
      Shel


      From: Jerry S <jerry5849@yahoo..com>
      To: ticket2write@yahoogroups.com
      Sent: Sat, October 31, 2009 1:07:31 PM
      Subject: [ticket2write] Re: A Halloween Tale (Wings)

       


      My old friend Wings,
      I am delighted you were entertained by my offering. It was an interesting story to write.
      I wished to show the main character letting go of all which held him to his world so that he might make a gentle transition into the next phase of existence. This meant not only letting go of possessions, but also letting go of his emotional ties as well. (something I believe we would all have difficulty doing)
      As for you having a heart, I believe this is rather obvious to anyone who is an active member of our family of writers at T2W. You are a kind and gentle soul, Wings…and a romantic as well, if the truth be told. And as you are a blessing to us, I know in my heart of hearts that you were a blessing to your dearly departed as well. I feel confident she will be waiting to greet you some day, but being stingy I hope that time is many, many years away.
      With deepest respect,
      Jerry

      --- In ticket2write@ yahoogroups. com, "wings081" <wings081@.. .> wrote:
      >
      >
      > Hi Jerry
      > When I see your name on site I know I can expect to be royally entertained and this time was no exception.
      > I'm forced to admit it tugged at my heartstrings in places (Believe it or not I do have a heart)
      > Your writing took me back to the arguments between my wife and myself all those yeara ago.She would never have left me, nor I her.Too late now to say sorry but if she is looking down as I rattle these keys,I know she understands the everlasting love I reserved for her and her alone.
      > Great write as always Jerry
      >
      > Wings..
      > --- In ticket2write@ yahoogroups. com, "Jerry S" <jerry5849@> wrote:
      > >
      > > A Halloween Tale
      > >
      > >
      > > "Well, that was the last of the food in my fridge," Steve mumbled to himself. He had been giving out candy nonstop until it ran out, and then had moved to other foodstuffs. Canned fruits and vegetables, bags of pretzels, chips, anything he could find in the cabinets went the same way and always there was another costumed person at his door. He then started giving out anything he could find in the refrigerator. There was no reason not to give away anything he could. It would be that much less to have to move.
      > > DING-DONG!!! The doorbell rang again. He was finding it harder and harder to move. He was so very tired that all he wished to do was to lie down and sleep forever. Opening the door he found a witch, a ghost and some sort of demon standing on his front porch. "TRICK OR TREAT" they yelled. He winced in pain while trying to cover his ears…too late. The streetlights cast a sickly yellow glow in the growing fog
      > > "Sorry kids, but I'm fresh out of food.. I've had more trick-or-treaters than I had expected.
      > > "Got anything else?" the little witch asked.
      > > "I don't know kid, but you and your friends are welcome to come in and help yourself to anything you can find. I'm just going to sit in my chair for a bit."
      > > Steve had lost his girlfriend, Jenny, the previous night after a big fight and he had gone to the bar to drown his sorrows. He recalled being the last patron and he could also remember leaving the parking lot in his car, but for the life of him he couldn't recall driving home. When he awoke this morning he found himself sprawled in a ratty overstuffed chair. It was the only furniture left in the small rental house.
      > > The little witch and her companions raced into the house laughing and began looking in every nook and cranny to see what might be found. The pickings were rather slim, but they found some houseplants on the back patio.
      > > "We'll take these, if it's okay with you mister?"
      > > "Sure kids. Enjoy them."
      > > Laughing, the kids skipped down the sidewalk as he shut the door.
      > > "Well," he grumbled, "that's it. There's nothing more to give away. He collapsed into his chair and scooted around until he found a comfortable position..
      > > If he closed his eyes he could still see Jenny with that hurt look on her face, but try as he might he couldn't recall what had started the argument, but he knew what had ended it. The loud slamming of the door as he left had sounded like the blast of a shotgun.
      > > He was shocked that she had taken most everything, especially in such a short amount of time. Of course, most of that stuff was hers anyway. He wondered where she was, how she was doing. She was a lovely lady when she wasn't driving him nuts. On the other hand breaking up was probably for the best anyway. Now nothing was holding him; not her, not his possessions, not anything. He was enjoying the idea of being free, not being "owned" by anyone or anything. He was tired and just wanted to sleep now.
      > > "Trick or Treat!"
      > > He opened his eyes to find a small, pale boy dressed in a black hooded robe standing just inside his open doorway. Steve recalled how the latch on the front door didn't work half of the time anyway. The door must have opened on its own once again.
      > > "Hey kid. Nice outfit, but I'm afraid I don't have anything left. I've given it all away."
      > > The boy stood still and glanced around the room, but said nothing.
      > > "Really, I have nothing more to give," he said. "If I did, I'd gladly give you something."
      > > The boy glanced outside where Steve could see that the fog had gotten extremely thick. The streetlights were almost completely blocked out now.. In a slight voice the boy said, "Would you walk with me?"
      > > Steve felt sorry for the boy. He remembered how afraid of the dark he was when he was a small boy. It could be awfully scary trying to find your way in that soup. You could walk into a tree or fall into a pit without even realizing it was there. Heck, he didn't have anything better to do now. "Sure kid, why not?"
      > > They stepped out to the porch and Steve tried pulling the front door shut, but it swung open again. "Darn latch.. Oh well, there's nothing left in there now anyway," he turned to the boy.. "Which way?"
      > > Without saying a word the boy slipped his small hand into Steve's and together they stepped onto the sidewalk. As they began walking, the house was swallowed up in the thick fog and was gone.
      > > Shadowy figures darted around in the darkness and the air was filled with eerie sounds of crying, calls for help and maniacal laughter.. "Kids are lost in the fog," thought Steve as a nervous sweat formed on his brow. As the sweat became mixed with the moisture of the fog he considered how similar the dampness must be to that experienced by a newborn child..
      > > A stench of decay had steadily grown since leaving his house. His body drenched and with hands now sweating profusely a deep fear began to grow in the pit of Steve's stomach. "Lost, lost, lost," he muttered to himself. "I don't know where I am."
      > > "Don't worry mister," said the boy in a warm voice. "We are almost home."
      > > Steve admired the boy's bravery and confidence. A light appeared in the distance. As they moved towards the brightness it seemed as though fingers of darkness tried to grasp him from behind, which was silly of course. He wanted to turn around and confront the darkness, but he didn't dare as he was afraid he might lose the light.
      > > "At least it won't be as scary in the light," he thought. "The darkness can't enter there, so we will be safe at last."
      > > The closer they got to the light the more Steve could make out, but instead of the boy's house all he could see was an enormous stone wall with a massive arch filled with a thick wooden door. Massive hinges held the door perfectly in place, yet the top of the door was not arched and it was from that opening that the light streamed forth.
      > > As Steve's eyes began to become accustomed to the brightness, he noticed an old man sitting on a simple stool by the door's latch.. The fellow eyed Steve up and down peering sharply through bushy gray eyebrows.
      > > "What do you want?" The ancient queried in a deep voice.
      > > "This kid came by my house to Trick or Treat, but the fog moved in," Steve explained. "He asked me to walk home with him, so I did. I was afraid for the little guy. It's a nasty night out there. Is this the way to his home or could you point the way?"
      > > The old man began laughing long and hard which upset Steve.
      > > "Hey buddy, I don't care how old you are, but I won't have you laughing at the boy. He needs my help so you are going to tell me how to get him home," his blood began boiling in his veins.
      > > The old fellow held up a hand as his laughter subsided.
      > > "You don't understand do you?"
      > > "What do you mean?"
      > > "He wasn't having you take him home. His home is out there," he swung a hand around to encompass all of the darkness. "He was the one who was taking you somewhere."
      > > "And just where was he taking me?"
      > > The old man stood up and pulled a key from a pocket. Placing it in the keyhole, he turned it until there was an audible click.
      > > "Go ahead," he urged. "Open the door and enter."
      > > Excitement unexpectedly filled Steve as he unlatched the door and swung it open. Beyond the archway the sky was clear, the air crisp and clean. Beautiful plants grew and blossomed everywhere, but did not vie with one another. Their fragrance was a delight. A soft hum filled the air like music. In the midst of it all, a path of white led to far away hills from whence the bright light emanated.
      > > The voice of the old man whispered to him from behind, "Welcome home. Welcome to Heaven."
      > >
      > > JKSaylor
      > > 10-30-09
      > >
      >


    • Jerry S
      Shel, I m glad you enjoyed this piece. I must admit though, I was not familiar with Everyman so I looked it up online. As I read a synopsis of the moral
      Message 2 of 9 , Nov 1, 2009
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        Shel,
        I'm glad you enjoyed this piece. I must admit though, I was not familiar with "Everyman" so I looked it up online. As I read a synopsis of the "moral play" I could see some comparisons which could be made.
        Thanks for the enlightenment.
        As always,
        Jerry


        --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Van Gogh <van72gogh@...> wrote:
        >
        > Indeed, Jerry, I did enjoy this. It reminded me very much of "Everyman", except in that story, the person did not want to let go of anything.
        > Thank you for the pleasure,
        > Shel
        >
        >
        >
        >
        > ________________________________
        > From: Jerry S <jerry5849@...>
        > To: ticket2write@yahoogroups.com
        > Sent: Sat, October 31, 2009 1:07:31 PM
        > Subject: [ticket2write] Re: A Halloween Tale (Wings)
        >
        >
        >
        > My old friend Wings,
        > I am delighted you were entertained by my offering. It was an interesting story to write.
        > I wished to show the main character letting go of all which held him to his world so that he might make a gentle transition into the next phase of existence. This meant not only letting go of possessions, but also letting go of his emotional ties as well. (something I believe we would all have difficulty doing)
        > As for you having a heart, I believe this is rather obvious to anyone who is an active member of our family of writers at T2W. You are a kind and gentle soul, Wings…and a romantic as well, if the truth be told. And as you are a blessing to us, I know in my heart of hearts that you were a blessing to your dearly departed as well. I feel confident she will be waiting to greet you some day, but being stingy I hope that time is many, many years away.
        > With deepest respect,
        > Jerry
        >
        > --- In ticket2write@ yahoogroups. com, "wings081" <wings081@ .> wrote:
        > >
        > >
        > > Hi Jerry
        > > When I see your name on site I know I can expect to be royally entertained and this time was no exception.
        > > I'm forced to admit it tugged at my heartstrings in places (Believe it or not I do have a heart)
        > > Your writing took me back to the arguments between my wife and myself all those yeara ago.She would never have left me, nor I her.Too late now to say sorry but if she is looking down as I rattle these keys,I know she understands the everlasting love I reserved for her and her alone.
        > > Great write as always Jerry
        > >
        > > Wings.
        > > --- In ticket2write@ yahoogroups. com, "Jerry S" <jerry5849@> wrote:
        > > >
        > > > A Halloween Tale
        > > >
        > > >
        > > > "Well, that was the last of the food in my fridge," Steve mumbled to himself. He had been giving out candy nonstop until it ran out, and then had moved to other foodstuffs. Canned fruits and vegetables, bags of pretzels, chips, anything he could find in the cabinets went the same way and always there was another costumed person at his door. He then started giving out anything he could find in the refrigerator. There was no reason not to give away anything he could. It would be that much less to have to move.
        > > > DING-DONG!!! The doorbell rang again. He was finding it harder and harder to move. He was so very tired that all he wished to do was to lie down and sleep forever. Opening the door he found a witch, a ghost and some sort of demon standing on his front porch. "TRICK OR TREAT" they yelled. He winced in pain while trying to cover his ears…too late. The streetlights cast a sickly yellow glow in the growing fog
        > > > "Sorry kids, but I'm fresh out of food. I've had more trick-or-treaters than I had expected.
        > > > "Got anything else?" the little witch asked.
        > > > "I don't know kid, but you and your friends are welcome to come in and help yourself to anything you can find. I'm just going to sit in my chair for a bit."
        > > > Steve had lost his girlfriend, Jenny, the previous night after a big fight and he had gone to the bar to drown his sorrows. He recalled being the last patron and he could also remember leaving the parking lot in his car, but for the life of him he couldn't recall driving home. When he awoke this morning he found himself sprawled in a ratty overstuffed chair. It was the only furniture left in the small rental house.
        > > > The little witch and her companions raced into the house laughing and began looking in every nook and cranny to see what might be found. The pickings were rather slim, but they found some houseplants on the back patio.
        > > > "We'll take these, if it's okay with you mister?"
        > > > "Sure kids. Enjoy them."
        > > > Laughing, the kids skipped down the sidewalk as he shut the door.
        > > > "Well," he grumbled, "that's it. There's nothing more to give away. He collapsed into his chair and scooted around until he found a comfortable position.
        > > > If he closed his eyes he could still see Jenny with that hurt look on her face, but try as he might he couldn't recall what had started the argument, but he knew what had ended it. The loud slamming of the door as he left had sounded like the blast of a shotgun.
        > > > He was shocked that she had taken most everything, especially in such a short amount of time. Of course, most of that stuff was hers anyway. He wondered where she was, how she was doing. She was a lovely lady when she wasn't driving him nuts. On the other hand breaking up was probably for the best anyway. Now nothing was holding him; not her, not his possessions, not anything. He was enjoying the idea of being free, not being "owned" by anyone or anything. He was tired and just wanted to sleep now..
        > > > "Trick or Treat!"
        > > > He opened his eyes to find a small, pale boy dressed in a black hooded robe standing just inside his open doorway. Steve recalled how the latch on the front door didn't work half of the time anyway. The door must have opened on its own once again.
        > > > "Hey kid. Nice outfit, but I'm afraid I don't have anything left. I've given it all away."
        > > > The boy stood still and glanced around the room, but said nothing.
        > > > "Really, I have nothing more to give," he said. "If I did, I'd gladly give you something."
        > > > The boy glanced outside where Steve could see that the fog had gotten extremely thick. The streetlights were almost completely blocked out now. In a slight voice the boy said, "Would you walk with me?"
        > > > Steve felt sorry for the boy. He remembered how afraid of the dark he was when he was a small boy. It could be awfully scary trying to find your way in that soup. You could walk into a tree or fall into a pit without even realizing it was there. Heck, he didn't have anything better to do now. "Sure kid, why not?"
        > > > They stepped out to the porch and Steve tried pulling the front door shut, but it swung open again. "Darn latch. Oh well, there's nothing left in there now anyway," he turned to the boy. "Which way?"
        > > > Without saying a word the boy slipped his small hand into Steve's and together they stepped onto the sidewalk. As they began walking, the house was swallowed up in the thick fog and was gone.
        > > > Shadowy figures darted around in the darkness and the air was filled with eerie sounds of crying, calls for help and maniacal laughter. "Kids are lost in the fog," thought Steve as a nervous sweat formed on his brow. As the sweat became mixed with the moisture of the fog he considered how similar the dampness must be to that experienced by a newborn child.
        > > > A stench of decay had steadily grown since leaving his house. His body drenched and with hands now sweating profusely a deep fear began to grow in the pit of Steve's stomach. "Lost, lost, lost," he muttered to himself. "I don't know where I am."
        > > > "Don't worry mister," said the boy in a warm voice.. "We are almost home."
        > > > Steve admired the boy's bravery and confidence. A light appeared in the distance. As they moved towards the brightness it seemed as though fingers of darkness tried to grasp him from behind, which was silly of course. He wanted to turn around and confront the darkness, but he didn't dare as he was afraid he might lose the light.
        > > > "At least it won't be as scary in the light," he thought. "The darkness can't enter there, so we will be safe at last."
        > > > The closer they got to the light the more Steve could make out, but instead of the boy's house all he could see was an enormous stone wall with a massive arch filled with a thick wooden door. Massive hinges held the door perfectly in place, yet the top of the door was not arched and it was from that opening that the light streamed forth.
        > > > As Steve's eyes began to become accustomed to the brightness, he noticed an old man sitting on a simple stool by the door's latch.. The fellow eyed Steve up and down peering sharply through bushy gray eyebrows.
        > > > "What do you want?" The ancient queried in a deep voice.
        > > > "This kid came by my house to Trick or Treat, but the fog moved in," Steve explained. "He asked me to walk home with him, so I did. I was afraid for the little guy. It's a nasty night out there. Is this the way to his home or could you point the way?"
        > > > The old man began laughing long and hard which upset Steve.
        > > > "Hey buddy, I don't care how old you are, but I won't have you laughing at the boy. He needs my help so you are going to tell me how to get him home," his blood began boiling in his veins.
        > > > The old fellow held up a hand as his laughter subsided.
        > > > "You don't understand do you?"
        > > > "What do you mean?"
        > > > "He wasn't having you take him home. His home is out there," he swung a hand around to encompass all of the darkness. "He was the one who was taking you somewhere."
        > > > "And just where was he taking me?"
        > > > The old man stood up and pulled a key from a pocket. Placing it in the keyhole, he turned it until there was an audible click.
        > > > "Go ahead," he urged. "Open the door and enter."
        > > > Excitement unexpectedly filled Steve as he unlatched the door and swung it open. Beyond the archway the sky was clear, the air crisp and clean. Beautiful plants grew and blossomed everywhere, but did not vie with one another. Their fragrance was a delight. A soft hum filled the air like music. In the midst of it all, a path of white led to far away hills from whence the bright light emanated.
        > > > The voice of the old man whispered to him from behind, "Welcome home. Welcome to Heaven."
        > > >
        > > > JKSaylor
        > > > 10-30-09
        > > >
        > >
        >
      • Susan Donahue
        Dear Jerry, Thank you for a nice read appropriate to the season. It reminds me of an old wive s tale believed by many of the women of my family. They are
        Message 3 of 9 , Nov 2, 2009
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          Dear Jerry,

          Thank you for a nice read appropriate to the season. It reminds me of an old wive's tale believed by many of the women of my family. They are always worried about any older woman in the family who suddenly takes on serious housekeeping chores. They are convinced that no woman would go on to the next life without taking the opportunity to tidy up their home first. Perhaps, like the person in your story, we have to empty the fridge before we can go to heaven. As for me, I am not supersticious, but I am inclined to leave some minor chore undone, just in case.

          Suzianne


          --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, "Jerry S" <jerry5849@...> wrote:
          >
          > A Halloween Tale
          >
          >
          > "Well, that was the last of the food in my fridge," Steve mumbled to himself. He had been giving out candy nonstop until it ran out, and then had moved to other foodstuffs. Canned fruits and vegetables, bags of pretzels, chips, anything he could find in the cabinets went the same way and always there was another costumed person at his door. He then started giving out anything he could find in the refrigerator. There was no reason not to give away anything he could. It would be that much less to have to move.
          > DING-DONG!!! The doorbell rang again. He was finding it harder and harder to move. He was so very tired that all he wished to do was to lie down and sleep forever. Opening the door he found a witch, a ghost and some sort of demon standing on his front porch. "TRICK OR TREAT" they yelled. He winced in pain while trying to cover his ears…too late. The streetlights cast a sickly yellow glow in the growing fog
          > "Sorry kids, but I'm fresh out of food. I've had more trick-or-treaters than I had expected.
          > "Got anything else?" the little witch asked.
          > "I don't know kid, but you and your friends are welcome to come in and help yourself to anything you can find. I'm just going to sit in my chair for a bit."
          > Steve had lost his girlfriend, Jenny, the previous night after a big fight and he had gone to the bar to drown his sorrows. He recalled being the last patron and he could also remember leaving the parking lot in his car, but for the life of him he couldn't recall driving home. When he awoke this morning he found himself sprawled in a ratty overstuffed chair. It was the only furniture left in the small rental house.
          > The little witch and her companions raced into the house laughing and began looking in every nook and cranny to see what might be found. The pickings were rather slim, but they found some houseplants on the back patio.
          > "We'll take these, if it's okay with you mister?"
          > "Sure kids. Enjoy them."
          > Laughing, the kids skipped down the sidewalk as he shut the door.
          > "Well," he grumbled, "that's it. There's nothing more to give away. He collapsed into his chair and scooted around until he found a comfortable position.
          > If he closed his eyes he could still see Jenny with that hurt look on her face, but try as he might he couldn't recall what had started the argument, but he knew what had ended it. The loud slamming of the door as he left had sounded like the blast of a shotgun.
          > He was shocked that she had taken most everything, especially in such a short amount of time. Of course, most of that stuff was hers anyway. He wondered where she was, how she was doing. She was a lovely lady when she wasn't driving him nuts. On the other hand breaking up was probably for the best anyway. Now nothing was holding him; not her, not his possessions, not anything. He was enjoying the idea of being free, not being "owned" by anyone or anything. He was tired and just wanted to sleep now.
          > "Trick or Treat!"
          > He opened his eyes to find a small, pale boy dressed in a black hooded robe standing just inside his open doorway. Steve recalled how the latch on the front door didn't work half of the time anyway. The door must have opened on its own once again.
          > "Hey kid. Nice outfit, but I'm afraid I don't have anything left. I've given it all away."
          > The boy stood still and glanced around the room, but said nothing.
          > "Really, I have nothing more to give," he said. "If I did, I'd gladly give you something."
          > The boy glanced outside where Steve could see that the fog had gotten extremely thick. The streetlights were almost completely blocked out now. In a slight voice the boy said, "Would you walk with me?"
          > Steve felt sorry for the boy. He remembered how afraid of the dark he was when he was a small boy. It could be awfully scary trying to find your way in that soup. You could walk into a tree or fall into a pit without even realizing it was there. Heck, he didn't have anything better to do now. "Sure kid, why not?"
          > They stepped out to the porch and Steve tried pulling the front door shut, but it swung open again. "Darn latch. Oh well, there's nothing left in there now anyway," he turned to the boy. "Which way?"
          > Without saying a word the boy slipped his small hand into Steve's and together they stepped onto the sidewalk. As they began walking, the house was swallowed up in the thick fog and was gone.
          > Shadowy figures darted around in the darkness and the air was filled with eerie sounds of crying, calls for help and maniacal laughter. "Kids are lost in the fog," thought Steve as a nervous sweat formed on his brow. As the sweat became mixed with the moisture of the fog he considered how similar the dampness must be to that experienced by a newborn child.
          > A stench of decay had steadily grown since leaving his house. His body drenched and with hands now sweating profusely a deep fear began to grow in the pit of Steve's stomach. "Lost, lost, lost," he muttered to himself. "I don't know where I am."
          > "Don't worry mister," said the boy in a warm voice. "We are almost home."
          > Steve admired the boy's bravery and confidence. A light appeared in the distance. As they moved towards the brightness it seemed as though fingers of darkness tried to grasp him from behind, which was silly of course. He wanted to turn around and confront the darkness, but he didn't dare as he was afraid he might lose the light.
          > "At least it won't be as scary in the light," he thought. "The darkness can't enter there, so we will be safe at last."
          > The closer they got to the light the more Steve could make out, but instead of the boy's house all he could see was an enormous stone wall with a massive arch filled with a thick wooden door. Massive hinges held the door perfectly in place, yet the top of the door was not arched and it was from that opening that the light streamed forth.
          > As Steve's eyes began to become accustomed to the brightness, he noticed an old man sitting on a simple stool by the door's latch. The fellow eyed Steve up and down peering sharply through bushy gray eyebrows.
          > "What do you want?" The ancient queried in a deep voice.
          > "This kid came by my house to Trick or Treat, but the fog moved in," Steve explained. "He asked me to walk home with him, so I did. I was afraid for the little guy. It's a nasty night out there. Is this the way to his home or could you point the way?"
          > The old man began laughing long and hard which upset Steve.
          > "Hey buddy, I don't care how old you are, but I won't have you laughing at the boy. He needs my help so you are going to tell me how to get him home," his blood began boiling in his veins.
          > The old fellow held up a hand as his laughter subsided.
          > "You don't understand do you?"
          > "What do you mean?"
          > "He wasn't having you take him home. His home is out there," he swung a hand around to encompass all of the darkness. "He was the one who was taking you somewhere."
          > "And just where was he taking me?"
          > The old man stood up and pulled a key from a pocket. Placing it in the keyhole, he turned it until there was an audible click.
          > "Go ahead," he urged. "Open the door and enter."
          > Excitement unexpectedly filled Steve as he unlatched the door and swung it open. Beyond the archway the sky was clear, the air crisp and clean. Beautiful plants grew and blossomed everywhere, but did not vie with one another. Their fragrance was a delight. A soft hum filled the air like music. In the midst of it all, a path of white led to far away hills from whence the bright light emanated.
          > The voice of the old man whispered to him from behind, "Welcome home. Welcome to Heaven."
          >
          > JKSaylor
          > 10-30-09
          >
        • Jerry S
          My dear Suzianne, You are so highly self motivated that I can hardly believe you might leave any minor detail undone, but I shall take your word for it. As
          Message 4 of 9 , Nov 3, 2009
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            My dear Suzianne,

            You are so highly self motivated that I can hardly believe you might leave any minor detail undone, but I shall take your word for it. As for the reason for having done so, I don't believe you have anything to worry about there. Even when the last trumpet sounds for you, I think you will arrive…fashionably late. (smile)

            As always,
            Jerry




            --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, "Susan Donahue" <suzianne411@...> wrote:
            >
            > Dear Jerry,
            >
            > Thank you for a nice read appropriate to the season. It reminds me of an old wive's tale believed by many of the women of my family. They are always worried about any older woman in the family who suddenly takes on serious housekeeping chores. They are convinced that no woman would go on to the next life without taking the opportunity to tidy up their home first. Perhaps, like the person in your story, we have to empty the fridge before we can go to heaven. As for me, I am not supersticious, but I am inclined to leave some minor chore undone, just in case.
            >
            > Suzianne
            >
            >
            > --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, "Jerry S" <jerry5849@> wrote:
            > >
            > > A Halloween Tale
            > >
            > >
            > > "Well, that was the last of the food in my fridge," Steve mumbled to himself. He had been giving out candy nonstop until it ran out, and then had moved to other foodstuffs. Canned fruits and vegetables, bags of pretzels, chips, anything he could find in the cabinets went the same way and always there was another costumed person at his door. He then started giving out anything he could find in the refrigerator. There was no reason not to give away anything he could. It would be that much less to have to move.
            > > DING-DONG!!! The doorbell rang again. He was finding it harder and harder to move. He was so very tired that all he wished to do was to lie down and sleep forever. Opening the door he found a witch, a ghost and some sort of demon standing on his front porch. "TRICK OR TREAT" they yelled. He winced in pain while trying to cover his ears…too late. The streetlights cast a sickly yellow glow in the growing fog
            > > "Sorry kids, but I'm fresh out of food. I've had more trick-or-treaters than I had expected.
            > > "Got anything else?" the little witch asked.
            > > "I don't know kid, but you and your friends are welcome to come in and help yourself to anything you can find. I'm just going to sit in my chair for a bit."
            > > Steve had lost his girlfriend, Jenny, the previous night after a big fight and he had gone to the bar to drown his sorrows. He recalled being the last patron and he could also remember leaving the parking lot in his car, but for the life of him he couldn't recall driving home. When he awoke this morning he found himself sprawled in a ratty overstuffed chair. It was the only furniture left in the small rental house.
            > > The little witch and her companions raced into the house laughing and began looking in every nook and cranny to see what might be found. The pickings were rather slim, but they found some houseplants on the back patio.
            > > "We'll take these, if it's okay with you mister?"
            > > "Sure kids. Enjoy them."
            > > Laughing, the kids skipped down the sidewalk as he shut the door.
            > > "Well," he grumbled, "that's it. There's nothing more to give away. He collapsed into his chair and scooted around until he found a comfortable position.
            > > If he closed his eyes he could still see Jenny with that hurt look on her face, but try as he might he couldn't recall what had started the argument, but he knew what had ended it. The loud slamming of the door as he left had sounded like the blast of a shotgun.
            > > He was shocked that she had taken most everything, especially in such a short amount of time. Of course, most of that stuff was hers anyway. He wondered where she was, how she was doing. She was a lovely lady when she wasn't driving him nuts. On the other hand breaking up was probably for the best anyway. Now nothing was holding him; not her, not his possessions, not anything. He was enjoying the idea of being free, not being "owned" by anyone or anything. He was tired and just wanted to sleep now.
            > > "Trick or Treat!"
            > > He opened his eyes to find a small, pale boy dressed in a black hooded robe standing just inside his open doorway. Steve recalled how the latch on the front door didn't work half of the time anyway. The door must have opened on its own once again.
            > > "Hey kid. Nice outfit, but I'm afraid I don't have anything left. I've given it all away."
            > > The boy stood still and glanced around the room, but said nothing.
            > > "Really, I have nothing more to give," he said. "If I did, I'd gladly give you something."
            > > The boy glanced outside where Steve could see that the fog had gotten extremely thick. The streetlights were almost completely blocked out now. In a slight voice the boy said, "Would you walk with me?"
            > > Steve felt sorry for the boy. He remembered how afraid of the dark he was when he was a small boy. It could be awfully scary trying to find your way in that soup. You could walk into a tree or fall into a pit without even realizing it was there. Heck, he didn't have anything better to do now. "Sure kid, why not?"
            > > They stepped out to the porch and Steve tried pulling the front door shut, but it swung open again. "Darn latch. Oh well, there's nothing left in there now anyway," he turned to the boy. "Which way?"
            > > Without saying a word the boy slipped his small hand into Steve's and together they stepped onto the sidewalk. As they began walking, the house was swallowed up in the thick fog and was gone.
            > > Shadowy figures darted around in the darkness and the air was filled with eerie sounds of crying, calls for help and maniacal laughter. "Kids are lost in the fog," thought Steve as a nervous sweat formed on his brow. As the sweat became mixed with the moisture of the fog he considered how similar the dampness must be to that experienced by a newborn child.
            > > A stench of decay had steadily grown since leaving his house. His body drenched and with hands now sweating profusely a deep fear began to grow in the pit of Steve's stomach. "Lost, lost, lost," he muttered to himself. "I don't know where I am."
            > > "Don't worry mister," said the boy in a warm voice. "We are almost home."
            > > Steve admired the boy's bravery and confidence. A light appeared in the distance. As they moved towards the brightness it seemed as though fingers of darkness tried to grasp him from behind, which was silly of course. He wanted to turn around and confront the darkness, but he didn't dare as he was afraid he might lose the light.
            > > "At least it won't be as scary in the light," he thought. "The darkness can't enter there, so we will be safe at last."
            > > The closer they got to the light the more Steve could make out, but instead of the boy's house all he could see was an enormous stone wall with a massive arch filled with a thick wooden door. Massive hinges held the door perfectly in place, yet the top of the door was not arched and it was from that opening that the light streamed forth.
            > > As Steve's eyes began to become accustomed to the brightness, he noticed an old man sitting on a simple stool by the door's latch. The fellow eyed Steve up and down peering sharply through bushy gray eyebrows.
            > > "What do you want?" The ancient queried in a deep voice.
            > > "This kid came by my house to Trick or Treat, but the fog moved in," Steve explained. "He asked me to walk home with him, so I did. I was afraid for the little guy. It's a nasty night out there. Is this the way to his home or could you point the way?"
            > > The old man began laughing long and hard which upset Steve.
            > > "Hey buddy, I don't care how old you are, but I won't have you laughing at the boy. He needs my help so you are going to tell me how to get him home," his blood began boiling in his veins.
            > > The old fellow held up a hand as his laughter subsided.
            > > "You don't understand do you?"
            > > "What do you mean?"
            > > "He wasn't having you take him home. His home is out there," he swung a hand around to encompass all of the darkness. "He was the one who was taking you somewhere."
            > > "And just where was he taking me?"
            > > The old man stood up and pulled a key from a pocket. Placing it in the keyhole, he turned it until there was an audible click.
            > > "Go ahead," he urged. "Open the door and enter."
            > > Excitement unexpectedly filled Steve as he unlatched the door and swung it open. Beyond the archway the sky was clear, the air crisp and clean. Beautiful plants grew and blossomed everywhere, but did not vie with one another. Their fragrance was a delight. A soft hum filled the air like music. In the midst of it all, a path of white led to far away hills from whence the bright light emanated.
            > > The voice of the old man whispered to him from behind, "Welcome home. Welcome to Heaven."
            > >
            > > JKSaylor
            > > 10-30-09
            > >
            >
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