Charles Pendelton

	Charles Pendelton
	© 2008 Marty Langdon

Chapter 38

Visions from a heavenly sky

Leaving the backyard, I decided to walk into a rather secluded area in Mr. Barton's yard.
Here, the view was incredible for cloud watching with the light of the planets reflecting
upon them. Looking up toward the sky, I was utterly fascinated. The clouds illuminated
by the moon displayed a fanciful array of imaginative images. The brilliant white shapes
were immaculately pure, and while I stood there in awe, I felt as though I were looking
into the eye of Heaven.

There was a tiny dog chasing after Father Time, who was running in step carrying a baby
giraffe. As his beard grew longer, it became a field that the dog ran and played on. I saw a
conveyor belt dropping stadiums into an oversized glass that a cartoon child was holding.

I watched an insufferable lout berate a silver-tongued courtesan beside a waterfall of
diamonds. Before long, she would be the only one left standing on an island that was now
only two feet in diameter. The woman appeared sad because the ocean water had risen
to her waistline. Within seconds, she became an alluring palm tree that would one day
give birth to a massive continent. Her name was Asia, and she was stunningly beautiful.

I then witnessed a planet open up like an egg
to produce an exquisitely charming flower.

A flower of love.

As the sericeous flower slowly withered, I watched it manifest into a hobgoblin
with knifelike teeth that ran around eating the legs of tables. Soon, the silent
cries ended, and nothing remained but a town filled with enlarged cutting boards.

There was a floating city that everyone wanted to be on, but no one could reach.
Instead, they trampled over each other like ants pouring over a lake of honey until
they all solidified, forming a round airmail stamp that would eventually become
the smallest planet in our solar system Pluto. It then pulled itself apart to form a
rather awkwardly shaped fan.

I then tried to generate a host of violent scenes. Casting coins into the magic fountain
produced anything my heart desired, and anything I looked for in the vast sky of imagery
could be seen. I turned to the clouds, as though they were a book of the past, or a gift
perhaps, and let the visions unfurl to show me what they may. I saw a suggillated man
in rags being dragged into a room. He was brought to lay his head upon a cold anvil
where a blacksmith swung his sledge in fury.

God I thought, you don't see that in the movies.

Two warriors with swords were fighting on the same horse that was up to its
knees in blood. I saw the head of a king being abacinated by a peasant baby,
who was still attached to his mother's umbilical cord. And a man swimming
inside a slinky begins to expand until the coils become the neck rings of
an Ethiopian woman who in turn fizzles into a carbon sugar snake.

Such mordant and insightful visions.

A young man attempting to bite the leg of an angry griffin, loses his mouth and
quickly becomes a perch for the griffin, who transformed into a frightened eagle.

The eagle then became an ice castle that grew like a beanstalk
past several galaxies to organize its own unique universe.

As I studied each scene, I became enthralled at the magnitude of these moving
pictures. They were so creative and yet so alive. It was a step above astounding.
It was magnificent! Indeed, the artistry of our collaboration was beyond brilliant.

Comparable to a thousand mercury space capsules touching down on a veritable
alien landscape as seen through the eye a telescope. When Day-Glo soldiers arrive
in the cortical hemisphere of the mind, they will find I've developed an unnatural
fixation with clouds and the significance of creation.

Essentially, what I tried to learn, I had already mastered,
and that was the art of reflecting.

Pg 262
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To fashion images through illusion was an elusory concept that I would extol
until the final scene drew to a close and the grey curtain came falling down.

What a phenomenal gift the Lord had imputed upon me, I reveled, in lunacy.

Like a child being allowed to play with infinity, unlocking the heavens brought me
one step closer to standing before Almighty God himself under that eternal sky.

I was elated beyond words, for I had acquired an endearing love for the
creator of all things. So powerful was this feeling that I would need to
close my eyes and recite a very slow prayer in the tune of a hymn. Like
the words of a priest in a church of the holy, I recited the words while
bringing my hand down slowly. This made me hear the pipe organ in
the back of my mind, and it was hauntingly beautiful.

What impressive powers of observation I have been endowed with, but why
should I be commended with such immense power as to control the very air
itself? This I wondered, as God played his hand in the arrangement of clouds
on the ethereal sky like a game of chess that was awaiting my next move.

Perhaps, it was not as profoundly moving as a soul darting about the heavens in
its wanderlust, but still, I was encaptivated, and happy to be playing the game.

Be that as it may, it was a very blessed feeling, nonetheless.

Sadly, however, we are made of flesh. Pulled from a loving and nurturing
womb, we are handed over to a society where our every move is dictated by
time, an entire civilization run by a giant clock. So now, we have no real life
at all, because it is given over to work and are two days off are just that.

It saddens me to think that no one could devise a better plan.

The only ones who were truly free were the hippie. And by now, they're
either in institutions or they've changed direction entirely. For all intents
and purposes, one can wholeheartedly say that the only ones who are truly
free now are the bums, and they are enslaved by poverty. So confounding
to me is this life we have all been wrought to suffer.

I wasn’t moving the clouds; I was simply using my mind.
I wasn’t creating the illusion; I was solving the equation.

And believe me when I tell you, it was a hell of a lot better
than playing video games in the age that would follow.

A disgusted Santa leaves The North Pole in a motorized stagecoach which ascended
into the sky like an overinflated blimp. I watched as he flicks his cigar ash. It falls like
confetti to the millions of naughty children on the ground. As they eat it, they cough.

What a spectacle it was indeed.

I then saw what seemed to resemble a sputnik or satellite disengaging. This turned
into a happy clown who removes his pointed hat and erupted like Mount Vesuvius.
This changed into a fortress that had been erected on the nose of an aardvark, who
appeared to be getting ready to sneeze.

When this scene faded away, it soon merged to become another. I then saw a condor
with a wingspan longer than the Eiffel Tower pick up and begin carrying the state of
Illinois. Off into the sunset they went in its sharp talon's. As they were about a mile
from the ground, the state tilted, and all the townspeople fell out in a big smudge.

I watched as a slim man smoking a pipe threw a pie at a fat man who wore a pocket
watch for a face. The pie hits his mouth and turns him into a mother-in-law, who in
turn chases the pie thrower with a telephone pole sized rolling pin.

An airplane dancing on water, gets its wheel tickled by the tail of a crocodile typing
a letter to his girlfriend underwater, who was only a few inches away. Whatever she
dictated, he would type for her. They soon formed a huge castle made of ivory, before
it changed into an ice cream bar. This turned into a tidal wave that patted the backside
of a ladybug. She didn't appreciate it, so they morphed into a bus made of gypsum.

I saw a boy running on the blades of a windmill
and two trees playing poker in a forest.

Who could have thought this to be even possible? The power of
one's mind used artistically and creatively could very well prove
to be an invaluable tool for an artist or songwriter indeed.

Anyone looking for a drop of inspiration in this particular
wishing well would surely find it.

Did you know that many years ago, doctors used to administer LSD in hospitals under
supervised conditions? The risks were minimal for the antidote (Thorazine) was
readily on hand. But now, should we decide to experiment on our own, then we're
nothing but jerks taking drugs, and no one is interested in hearing a thing about it.

                                                               Pg 263
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I watched a woman peering out at me slowly from behind her drapes. In a gesticulative
manner, she beckons me with a deep inhale that was reminiscent of a morning sigh.
All for the definitive reason that I may somehow join her. If you're waiting for me,
I thought to myself in a playfully way, then you're going to be waiting a long time,
because I have no way of getting up there. Then as I watched her, it happened.

                                        She became Harmony.

For a few seconds, I actually stopped breathing. Oh, my exquisite angel, I cried
out in my brain as she turned toward me, you are the reason I am so lost. I need
to be with you again. To hold you again. She didn't have to say a word. I read
her expressions and knew exactly what her words were conveying.

What do you do when you need to tell someone you love so much, how you're feeling
inside, but are unable to? Knowing you will never have the chance again, you simply
exist. That racking torment. Those wretched cries beckon you to madness, but still,
you refuse to let go. You cannot bring yourself to forget her, for she meant the world
to you. In the end, she gave more than her own life could give.

As my nose opened sharply, and my eyes stung with tears,
I stood there looking up and I began to weep.

My sweet angel, you were more than a loving companion. What I wouldn't do to
be able to look into your eyes again, and bear my soul unto you just like before.
Imagine getting a second chance to stand before that person, and tell him or
her everything you've been feeling inside your heart for so long.

Well, on this very night, I did just that.

As she looked at me, I could see God was taking good care of her. I no longer
had to worry. She looked at me in that same familiar way I always remembered,
and in my mind somehow, her eyes spoke to my heart. If I could interpret the
words, they would be written down as this.

“Baby, I know you miss me, and I know you will never stop loving me, but
you have to move on. We will be together again one day; I promise, so don't
worry. The years you have been given will be many my love, so live. Inside,
you have so much love to give, and you have already proven yourself to me.
I will never forget that. Let go baby, it's okay. Do it for me.”

I then saw myself up there with her. I was holding her hand, and together
we became a flag of peace blowing freely in the wind for all the world to see.

I wept like a child and could not stop the outpouring of tears. Allowing them to fall
from my eyes while trying to control my double breathing. That terrible shuddering
left me gasping for air. Knowing I was soon going to hyperventilate if I didn't stop,
I wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand and said, “I love you” to the mild breeze.

And somewhere within the confines of my shattered heart,
I was able to find closure.

“Happy birthday my love,” was the last thing I said before leaving her forever.

John was still lying in the backyard on the recliner as I walked into the house, trembling.
Silently, I entered the small bathroom, and in there, I emptied my nose into three tissues,
before going back outside again. Looking up into a dead sky, I found she would not return to me.

No longer would I feel abandoned, confused or alone, but rather joyous.
She had found paradise, and I had said goodbye to her.

                                                               Pg 264
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Reviews for chapter 38

Nila Ravishankar - So sad and beautiful too

This review was posted on May/10/23
Reviewed by aamnaaaa

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                                                              This review was posted on May/26/23

                                                     kanchanninawe's review

                     The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe: Chapter 38 - Visions From a Heavenly Sky

Reader's Report by kanchan

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This review was posted on May/30/23
Reviewed by yashodha_95

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This review was posted on Jun/18/23
Hajranoor's review
HN

iii

                                          This review was posted on Jul/1/23

                                           iqrabashir871 's review

The Embryo Man and Other Tales of Woe: Chapter 38 - Visions from a Heavenly Sky

                                              Reader's Report by Iqra

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This review was posted on Jul/26/23

This review was posted on Jul/28/23
Reviewed by tawhida

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This review was posted on Oct/4/23
alits29's review

LB

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This review was posted on Oct/16/23
Reviewed by suma303755

I
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This review was posted on Dec/25/23
Reviewed by pazkou
PK

This review was posted on Feb/17/24
Reviewed by hinaspatel

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This review was posted on May/25/23
Reviewed by mariya

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This review was posted on June/5/23
LL

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This review was posted on Jun/29/24
Reviewed by sampriktaada813

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                                                           This review was posted on Jul/2/24
                                                                  Tayyaba17's review
                                     The Embryo Man: Chapter 38 - Visions From a Heavenly Sky
                                                                   Reader's Report by Tayyaba

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This review was posted on Jul/11/24
Reviewed by sababaloch292

SB

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Saleha Zainab - Aug 9 - Chapter 38

The vision of Harmony doesn’t merely represent a memory; it’s a manifestation
of the narrator’s need for closure and peace. Harmony’s silent communication—
through her expressions rather than words—mirrors the ineffable nature of their
bond, something that transcends ordinary language. The narrator interprets her
expressions as a message of reassurance, urging them to move on and live life fully.

This interaction represents the internal struggle between holding on to the past
and the necessity of letting go in order to heal. It also serves as a powerful exploration
of grief, memory, and the process of healing. The narrator's interaction with Harmony
is a turning point that allows them to transition from a state of sorrow and longing to
one of acceptance and peace. Through this deeply emotional and spiritual encounter,
the narrator finds the strength to let go, illustrating the profound impact that love and
loss can have on the human soul.

The theme of freedom versus societal constraints also emerges in the narrator's
reflection on modern life. The comparison between the "hippies" and "bums" as the
only truly free people highlights the narrator's disillusionment with the structured,
time-bound existence that society imposes. This theme is reinforced by the surreal
imagery, which often depicts characters or objects breaking free from their constraints
(e.g., the condor carrying Illinois into the sunset, the airplane dancing on a lake).

The progression of images mirrors the narrator's emotional journey, moving from
whimsical fantasies to darker, more introspective scenes, and finally to a poignant
moment of personal revelation.

The tone of the passage shifts from awe and wonder to melancholy and introspection,
particularly in the latter part when the narrator addresses Harmony. This shift is
significant, as it marks a transition from a detached observer of the surreal visions
to a deeply personal confrontation with loss and longing. The use of the second-person
address ("you") when speaking to Harmony heightens the emotional intensity, making
the reader feel as though they are eavesdropping on a private conversation.

Chapter concludes with a sense of resolution, as the narrator comes to terms with their
grief and finds peace in the knowledge that Harmony is in a better place. The final lines,
where the narrator wipes away their tears and says a final goodbye, convey a powerful
moment of closure, both for the narrator and the reader.

This review was posted on Nov/15/24
Reviewed by nusratjahan603

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This review was posted on Nov/17/24
Reviewed by sarah1409

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