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, as the moon reflected from them brilliantly.

As I looked up toward the sky I was utterly fascinated. The clouds which
were 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 which was
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 would be granted. 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
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 has been 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. 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

To fashion images through illusion was an elusory concept, 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, did I recite words while bringing my hand
down slowly. This made me hear the pipe organ in the back of my mind, and
it sounded magnificent.

What impressive powers of observation I have
recently been endowed with, but why
should I be commended with such
an immense power as to control the very air itself?
This I pondered silently, as the arrangement of clouds moved slowly in the ethereal sky.

Perhaps, it was not as profoundly moving as a soul darting about the heaven's
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's 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 hippies 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 using my mind.
I was creating the illusion by solving the equation.

And believe me when I tell you, it was a lot better than playing Monopoly.

A disgusted Santa leaves The North Pole in a motorized stagecoach which ascended
into the sky like an over inflated 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 Tsunami 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 mindused
in an artistic and creative way 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.

Do 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

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 beckoning you to madness, but still
you refuse to let go. You cannot bring yourself to forget her, for she meant the world
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 found 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


Reviews for chapter 38

Nila Ravishankar - So sad and beautiful too

If any image on this site is considered to be offensive, it will be removed. If it has been copied without
proper consent, please contact me immediately and the image will either be removed, or credit shall be
given unto the person or persons responsible. Whether it be an artist, photographer, cartoonist., etc.

PG 262) Chasing Alhambra by Jeff Mihalyo -

PG 262)
Almost the end by Gyuri Lohmuller -  

PG 262)
Metamorphosis by Vladimir Kush -

PG 263)
Sky Target by Vladimir Kush -

PG 263)
Christ in Galilee by Vladimir Kush -

PG 263)
Absents of the Mermaid by Octavio Ocampo

PG 264)
Clouds and rain by Mark Henson -

PG 264)
Late night jazz by Gérard DuBois -