I don’t know where I would be without the written word….words strung together by poets and novelists, serious writers of non fiction who make facts so alluring that reality does seem like fiction.
Words in the middle of the night chase away the nightmares that past remembrances seem to evoke from absolutely nowhere. I never think of certain people who crossed my path, those who came and upset my days and re organised my routine. I try to forget those who bruised the heart and rendered me for a while unable to move forward or back. My mind grasps the image of Frodo when the Spider wrapped him in a cocoon after he had been in her nest…he was conscious but not able to move and it was only his good and faithful friend Samwise Gangee who watched over him and fought for him to regain himself. When sleep comes they,the past memories, edge to the forefront of my mind and cause stress and anxiety that makes awakening a pleasure. It is then that I reach for my kindle or tablet and search for the writers whose words I know will ease the restlessness that haunts me. Always the past to upset the balance of things. Why? I ask myself.
An excerpt that arrested my attention:
It used to be that if you were a child you were able to live a safe and secure life. Of course some children had more than others and some were loved more than others. But the truth was that in general children were protected by parents, teachers and the law. Since time immemorial there were the abandoned ones, ghetto children and street children. Every society was guilty of child abuse to varying degrees and organisations and judicial systems worked tirelessly to correct these ghastly realities. Children were in the forefront of advertising everything from telephones to cars. Cute babies and little puppy dogs were used mercilessly in the market place. Then the world changed. In the year 2060 it became extremely dangerous to be a child in any society.
And so this is where this story begins. In 2060 after the clash of the continents. The super powers who succeeded not in solving their unreconcilable differences but who collectively succeeded in alienating parts of the earth from each other. Nothing improved. Societies became more barbaric and Mother Earth began to die. At first it was such a slow process that no one, not even the great scientists of the earth noticed. Then suddenly people began talking about ‘ozone layers’ and ‘cell stem harvesting’. The ancient ones who had lived before knew all there was to know about the earth and its people. They knew all about where the people were going and where they came from. There were legends and stories. There were ancient manuscripts with many words. These became books with many pages. Books became one of the most important sources of learning for anyone who could read and write. Later books were harvested into the great data bases of the Internet. Every kind of document submitted was stored and kept for later retrieval. The World Wide Web became more important in everyday life across all strata of society than anything else. It was informative, simple and vastly complex. Every person on the planet had access to the network. The network became a wonderful platform for learning, it became the root to all evil.
Organised religion was no longer in evidence and belief systems had crashed. Those who still tried to maintain any moral code or structured principles by which to govern spiritual and emotional life went underground. The churches of the world stood empty or became the personal property of individuals rich and powerful, infamous and criminal. The strange phenomena was that although many buildings of the world deteriorated by and through the great war it was the churches,mosques and temples that remained intact. No one could satisfactorily explain why this was so. Everyone stopped trying but there were those who ‘knew’ but said nothing..for the time being. The earth had changed but one thing was still certain…churches,mosques and temples were a place of safe haven…vast and empty places of silent comings and silent goings.
The earth was divided into quadrants and there were only four. When the divisions came and the powers put the boundaries into place no one argued. There were no political uprisings or rebel fightings or groups who terrorised. It was as though entire nations became numb and utterly tired of trying to maintain rights, ethnaticity and constitutions. People became more silent than before and the men in power saw this as submission. But for some it wasn’t submission. It was a time to reassess. To regroup and to begin again. It was a time for the emergence of new hero’s. This is the story about 4 such hero’s who started life as endangered children. It is their history of how they stayed ahead of those who sought their lives because of their rare blood grouping and ethnaticity. It is the story of ‘the silent one’ who defended their lives with his own. It is the story of a broken shaman and a reluctant messiah. It is the story of a world struggling to survive the stupidity and greed of its politicians. It is the story of a medicine mans search for the origin of the Creator being spoken of in legends of old. It is the story of the dark one known as ‘The Collector’. This is….. The Story.
I look forward to the following of this Story….funny title…The Story.