***************************************
If you would like to share this blog with a friend, go to the bottom and click on TELL A FRIEND
****************************************
RUST ON MY SOUL (A Novel) (Published by Bridge Press in 1985 & Distributed Internationally) ********************************************************
INTRODUCTION (Repeated for those new to the series)
In an old loose leaf notebook, Thomas Kettering wrote when there was a cry from his heart. He wrote when his inner longing spilled over into the reality of his days. He did not write every day, only when he felt he must. How often he wrote or when is not important. The journey is what counts, for it is a diary about all of us, to all of us. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” and even a stumble is a step. *************************************************
SPECIAL NOTATION TO MYSELF: I have been reading back over my diary and it is the wanderings of a man who not only doesn’t know where he is wandering but finally realizes he had better get some direction in life or be hopelessly lost.
Evening
Still no word from Connie and the police don’t give us much hope for finding her.
The statistics are staggering but Connie isn’t a statistic to use. She’s an intelligent young lady who’s momentarily confused.
Oh, please let it be a short moment.
Thank God Nancy hasn’t yet joined the ranks of working mothers.
She’d never believe that Connie’s running away wasn’t partially due to that. Nancy majors in traveling these days. If it isn’t one guilt trip it’s another.
At least this time we aren’t blaming God.
Does that mean we’re growing up? I doubt it, but I am still seeking.
I don’t really know how Billy’s taking this.
He’s been very quiet.. Since communication, or rather its lack, seems to have precipitated all this. I should talk to him.
But what can I say? I can’t even concentrate on business long enough to make a sane decision these days, so how do I make sense where there has been so little lately.
Midmorning
My car is in the shop again, so this morning I rode the people mover. One of the “people” sat next to me. His mustache looked like a ten year old toothbrush.
It matched his eyebrows/. There was egg on his tie and wrinkles in what had once been an expensive suit.
“Good morning,” he ventured.
“It isn’t good, and it’s going to get worse,” I muttered and tried to bury myself, and the conversation in my paper.
“Is it vegetable or mineral?”
“What?”
“Is it vegetable or mineral? Is it something you ate or something that’s eating you?”
As he turned toward me his corpulent body rippled and he absentmindedly unwrapped another candy bar. It rapidly vanished into his bulging cheeks. I am not a man of many prejudices but I find too much fat shouts of a lack of self-discipline.
“I’m old, and I’m tired, and I’m not jolly because I’m fat – and –“ and I soon learned that he had once been a football star and a successful businessman.
He’d made a fortune selling hula hoops. I didn’t laugh aloud at the incongruity. Ten years ago his wife had left him. His children never write, he has high blood pressure, gall bladder trouble and ulcers, now momentarily at rest.
He likes shoes two sizes too big because his feet hurt.
By the time we reached the station I knew his age, something about his childhood and much of his philosophy on life. I also learned that I’d never see him again because the next day he was moving south. To my surprise the time had passed quite quickly.
We had solved no riddles and erased no problems. But two people had interacted. The force of two lives had rubbed edges for a while.
How was it, Adam, when there was no Eve No Cain? No Abel How was it when you were completely alone. *********************************************************************
TO BE CONTINUED
(Complete book available on amazon.com) (great prices)
**********************************************************************
To view an abundance of unusual stories by Neil Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS
Click on the following URL
If you would like to share this blog with a friend, go to the bottom and click on TELL A FRIEND
****************************************
RUST ON MY SOUL (A Novel) (Published by Bridge Press in 1985 & Distributed Internationally) ********************************************************
INTRODUCTION (Repeated for those new to the series)
In an old loose leaf notebook, Thomas Kettering wrote when there was a cry from his heart. He wrote when his inner longing spilled over into the reality of his days. He did not write every day, only when he felt he must. How often he wrote or when is not important. The journey is what counts, for it is a diary about all of us, to all of us. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” and even a stumble is a step. *************************************************
SPECIAL NOTATION TO MYSELF: I have been reading back over my diary and it is the wanderings of a man who not only doesn’t know where he is wandering but finally realizes he had better get some direction in life or be hopelessly lost.
Evening
Still no word from Connie and the police don’t give us much hope for finding her.
The statistics are staggering but Connie isn’t a statistic to use. She’s an intelligent young lady who’s momentarily confused.
Oh, please let it be a short moment.
Thank God Nancy hasn’t yet joined the ranks of working mothers.
She’d never believe that Connie’s running away wasn’t partially due to that. Nancy majors in traveling these days. If it isn’t one guilt trip it’s another.
At least this time we aren’t blaming God.
Does that mean we’re growing up? I doubt it, but I am still seeking.
I don’t really know how Billy’s taking this.
He’s been very quiet.. Since communication, or rather its lack, seems to have precipitated all this. I should talk to him.
But what can I say? I can’t even concentrate on business long enough to make a sane decision these days, so how do I make sense where there has been so little lately.
Midmorning
My car is in the shop again, so this morning I rode the people mover. One of the “people” sat next to me. His mustache looked like a ten year old toothbrush.
It matched his eyebrows/. There was egg on his tie and wrinkles in what had once been an expensive suit.
“Good morning,” he ventured.
“It isn’t good, and it’s going to get worse,” I muttered and tried to bury myself, and the conversation in my paper.
“Is it vegetable or mineral?”
“What?”
“Is it vegetable or mineral? Is it something you ate or something that’s eating you?”
As he turned toward me his corpulent body rippled and he absentmindedly unwrapped another candy bar. It rapidly vanished into his bulging cheeks. I am not a man of many prejudices but I find too much fat shouts of a lack of self-discipline.
“I’m old, and I’m tired, and I’m not jolly because I’m fat – and –“ and I soon learned that he had once been a football star and a successful businessman.
He’d made a fortune selling hula hoops. I didn’t laugh aloud at the incongruity. Ten years ago his wife had left him. His children never write, he has high blood pressure, gall bladder trouble and ulcers, now momentarily at rest.
He likes shoes two sizes too big because his feet hurt.
By the time we reached the station I knew his age, something about his childhood and much of his philosophy on life. I also learned that I’d never see him again because the next day he was moving south. To my surprise the time had passed quite quickly.
We had solved no riddles and erased no problems. But two people had interacted. The force of two lives had rubbed edges for a while.
How was it, Adam, when there was no Eve No Cain? No Abel How was it when you were completely alone. *********************************************************************
TO BE CONTINUED
(Complete book available on amazon.com) (great prices)
**********************************************************************
To view an abundance of unusual stories by Neil Wyrick go to his other blog ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS
Click on the following URL
http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/
**********************************************************************
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