When I did my other little ditty about “Time,” I had another spur of the moment kind of thing that led me to do the following piece.
This one, I felt I would include in my third or fourth book of The Lodestone Files: Among Us: Contact, Assimilation, Control, Extermination series.
Those moments I find enjoyable; random spurts of creativity, and one where I am not at war with my mind in focusing on something (like that sweet, sweet sleep) and being restless until I have to be up 20 min before my alarm goes off. Of course, now that I mention that, I probably will be tossing and turning and God knows what else.
In any case, it’s a visit to my therapist in the AM, where I will divulge my last few weeks of ups, downs, and everything in-between. So needless to say, I am looking forward to that shut eye, unloading of what’s gone on, and what the time until the next session will be.
On the plus side, I am going to go to sleep with Mile High by Morphine playing and that’s pretty good. Ah. Love it. When I need a good wind-down time song, chillax, or be me. . .pop on some Morphine and let the music weave its way in.
I digress, though.
If you’re interested in the first book of the series, download it on Amazon (free in most areas; if it’s not free in your area, let me know! I’ll get you a PDF copy. You can also opt-in with your email, here.
If you’ve already done Book One, we’ll I have number two done and readily available. If you opt-in via email, I will send you a PDF copy of that too.
Well, that’s about it. I’ll be catching some Zs and stuff. More to come tomorrow and all that jazz.
Until then,
RJM
The Prelude
by Robert J. S. T. McCartney
The time is almost here,
A time we should all fear.
The time is almost here,
A time we should fear.
The time is here,
We should fear.
The time to fear,
Is almost here.
It’s almost here,
We should fear.
What it could become.
They
Who
It
Them
Things
Who are you?
Who am I?
When?
It’s near,
We fear.
Near
Here
Fear
Near
It’s already here.
They’re near.
All there is, all that remains. . .
is fear
This text was hastily written on what remains of a wall in a dilapidated apartment building. A crumpled skeleton lays on the ground nearby. Perhaps, the remains of the author or another unsuspecting victim.
The prediction of the alien’s invasion so many years ago.