Sorry to my friends and followers.
Irma took its toll on the area and I have been rather busy. Luckily no significant damages to my homestead but others were not so lucky. So like most in South Florida, our passions were put on hold for few days. I have seen acts of kindness and acts of selfishness, I have watched people help perfect strangers for no other reason than it is the right thing to do, but I have also witnessed people at their worst during this time of trial. While both sides feed my creative hunger, only one makes allows me to take literary revenge on the society that accepts and glorifies the lack of morals in our world today. Those despots that preyed upon the helpless, took advantage of the system, attacked the humanity that rally to help them will be the building blocks for the evil in my stories, where they will be dealt with accordingly at the time of my choosing.
Enough of my ranting on with the story.
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A cold chill swept over Cowboy as he passed through the purple haze, followed by a feeling of peace. He opened his eyes and found himself in an empty space, no walls, no ceiling, not even a discernible floor beneath his feet. Smoking had his head down sleeping like horses do when they feel safe. Climbing down from his perch on the saddle, Cowboy felt solid nothingness under his boots. Allowing Smoky’s reins to hang loose he stepped a few feet away and scanned the area, turning in a full circle he saw nothing but whiteness. Well maybe not, there just across Smokey’s back at the edge of his vision was a what? a discoloration, a spot, and blemish in the absolute whiteness surrounding him.
Climbing back into the saddle, he woke Smokey up and turned towards the distant unknown spot. Smokey threw his head and refused to move easily, the whiteness disturbing his sense of balance, Cowboy climbed down and quieted the disoriented horse. When Smokey settled down, Cowboy removed his shirt and covered the horse’s eyes to relieve the feeling of disorientation. Remounting his four-footed companion Cowboy set off in the direction of the hope. On his left wrist Cowboy wore his grandfathers watch, a gift from his grandmother after they buried her husband of 65 years. He marked the time as he was taught to do to help measure distance and rode on. 2 hours and about 10 or so miles later the spot turned into something more, it started to take shape, nothing recognizable yet, not really uniform in height or even color, it was just not white.
Captain Jack's words of wisdom. 