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To: K-list
Recieved: 2003/01/16 04:17
Subject: Re: [k-list] the devil
From: Michael A. Read


On 2003/01/16 04:17, Michael A. Read posted thus to the K-list:

sure and it can give one the shivers and sweats.

Here's a true story for you. I was there. dum de dum dum de dum dum

The place, Portland, Oregon.
The people, me, John, and Faith. Guru worshippers.
The types, honest hick, looney lover, former witch. Roomates and friends.
The setting, an attic converted into sleeping quarters.
The time, around two am. Summer of 1973.

There we were. Faith in her nook, John in his corner, and me in my alcove. Snug and sleeping
the sleep of the joyful. All is well. Then I sense something. Something just outside the house.
Climbing up the wall.

I sit up, but my body lies still. The walls become transparent and I see it. It is a crackling darkness.It is pure black. Deeper than mines, darker than death. Where it's reality touches this reality sparky energy flashes.

Faith screams! And runs downstairs to the alter.

John sleeps. Well, ok, he did mumble and turn over. Once.

And out of the blue I find myself saying, "Oh, one of those. Hey! They don't belong here."
With one slight wave of the hand I sent it back to it's own kind where it could be happy.
Then I went downstairs and told Faith that the thing was gone.

Man, was she ever praying her heart out! Whooie. She told me that she just couldn't resist one more
little spell.

What I didn't understand was - how did I know that? It just seemed right. Things that looked like they were drawn in comic books shouldn't be running around loose.

Sometime later Faith again found herself in dire straights.

One day as I pulled my red 1949 GMC pickup up in front of that same house, John came bursting out of the door before I could turn the engine off. He told me that he just had a phone call from Faith.
It seems that she was trapped on a farm about 60 miles away across the Columbia river in Washington state.

The thing was, you see, that John didn't know how to get there. Apparently Faith couldn't tell him. She just said to send Michael Read Right Away!

So I went. Yup, drove right to the place. And it was a good thing I did too. John had said that Faith had gotten mixed up with some fringe group of farming Christian fundamentalists. One's that didn't like witches.

Of course I didn't really think that she would be burned at the stake. But when i pulled the old truck into the farmyard, it was apparent that Faith was indeed in dire trouble. The farmers were gathered in a close bunch and moving in slowly on Faith. They sure didn't look like they were about to make her the next Rose Festival queen.

She threw her bags in the back of the truck, jumped in and we hightailed it out of there.

So, yup, wierd drama dharma happens. The thing is, like my friend Faith would stay, "You gotta be careful what you wish for."


ciao,

michael

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