Author Topic: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream  (Read 2362 times)

Offline rewh2oman

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Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« on: June 17, 2008, 11:29:42 AM »
Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream


"Thank you so much. Yes, yes, we are very excited as well! We're going to celebrate a little, kiss our little boy goodnight and go to bed ourselves. It's almost midnight you know, and it's been a very long day. Good, then we'll see you tomorrow! Goodnight."

Hanging up the pay phone, her body starts to quiver just a little from the late night air.

Retreating to the comfort of the limousine, she gets into the backseat and closes the door. Sliding over closely to her husband, he wraps his arms around her, snuggling. Then he begins rubbing her shoulders to help warm her up.

She gives him a smile and brushes her long black hair behind her ears. Kissing her lips, he returns the grin, raising his eyebrows in that quirky fashion of his. As if to say, there's more where that came from!

It had been a busy day and they are exhausted. The couple sits comfortably, resting in their black limousine as it speeds through the streets of New York City. Thankfully, they'll be home soon.

* * *

Arriving at their apartment complex, the limo pulls up curbside. The night air is crisp and cold with Christmas only a couple weeks away.

Jose, the Doorman, sees the limo pulling up and rushes to meet it, ready to open the car door as soon as it stops. The husband's lovely wife exits first, and starts along the walkway heading toward the apartment's front entrance.

"Happy Christmas, Jose," says the husband, exiting the car.

"Merry Christmas to you as well, sir," replies Jose.

The husband isn't a naturalized citizen, but everyone here in the Big Apple made him feel at home. He loves the city. The husband feels he's a citizen of the World, not simply one place, which is just one reason why the people here, and everywhere, respond with deep love and respect.

As the wife approaches the steps of the archway, leading to the apartment's front door, she spots a stranger leaning against the black wrought iron fence bordering the walkway. Nearing the figure, an eerie feeling mounts within her. Getting closer, she decides to quicken her pace.

"Hello", says the voice.

She doesn't reply or even look in the direction of the stranger, becoming very anxious continues hurriedly toward the door. Her husband notices the happenings and passes the stranger without interaction. The stranger says nothing to the husband, he simply stares.

As the husband passes by, the stranger steps out of the shadows and onto the walkway. His face is stoic, nondescript. His eyes are fixated on the husband. Then, calmly and with precision, he brandishes a Charter Arms .38 revolver from beneath his coat. He assumes a combat stance then yells to the husband who is near the steps of the entrance.

The husband hears the call and begins to slowly turn toward the voice, unknowingly.

The stranger fires the gun twice hitting its target in the back. Shocked and dazed, the husband's body freezes. Time itself seems to be standing still. Another shot is fired, barely missing its mark and striking the building. Two more bullets are fired and quickly connect: one in the shoulder and one piercing his chest.

The husband staggers a few steps, moaning, "I'm shot, I'm shot," and crashes to the ground. His round glasses fall from his face, broken. Blood is pouring from his body. His heart is racing!

The stranger drops his weapon, frozen, in awe at what he has accomplished.

The wife screams at the horror she's witnessed, as Jose immediately summons security and an ambulance. "Help, help!" she's screaming at the top of her voice racing toward her lover.

The husband is lying in a pool of blood on the hard cold pavement. His heart, now in survival mode, frantically tries to replace the loss of blood; with little success. Pain is pulsating through his body as he feels life starting to abandon him.

His Spirit silently urging him to...hold on!

* * *

The Light first appears very dimly and then slowly increases in intensity. His Soul alone experiences the happening. Here, there is no beginning and there is no end. Nor is there any out or in. All is white and the Energy is total. There is silence, then...

"Your life has been full. You have loved, learned, felt extreme pain and immense joy. Spreading peace and love to all, spreading my word, my message."

This is bliss. Pure Energy surrounded by real love. This is what he was made of. What everything is made of. His Being was now one with the Divine. This is Love, omnipresent.

"Nothing will be gained by your death. Your time on Earth is not done. Your work is not yet complete. You will continue to deliver the Word to all."

The husband, now pure light and energy with the One, replies, "And the Word, your message, is Love?"

"Yes, my child: Love."

* * *

Reaching her husband and overcome with grief, the wife kneels on the blood covered walkway, holding his body, cradling his head in her lap. Stroking back his long hair, soiled and matted with blood. Looking up at the dark night sky, she screams, "No! No, please!"

Crying, she begins to pray. Singing his name, trying to will her life into his. Then closing her eyes, rocking back and forth slowly, gently; she prays to rid him of his wounds, his agony. Willing for her spirit to enter his body, and fill him with love.

His body suddenly reacts, going into convulsions. He's gasping for air, for life. Continuing to pray, she clutches his face to her bosom. Coughing blood, his loving wife clings to her husband's bullet riddled body.

Police and ambulance sirens scream in the distance, fast approaching.

Chanting his name, she gazes into his cold, distant eyes. Leaning forward, she gently kisses his lips. His chest moves ever so little as he takes a small breath. Her tears drip onto his face. His eyes flicker once. Noticing the movement, she pleads again; "Please, please," her body shaking with fear.

A small crowd gathers as the Police take the would-be Assassin away. There are cries and screams when the crowd realizes the identity of the man lying in the pool of blood.

She continues stroking his hair. The slightest eye movement again arises in him as tears stream down her face. His breathing increases.

Slowly, the husband begins to open his eyes. His mouth is agape. Blood trickles from the corners. Sobbing, she holds him closely, looking into his eyes. He takes a slow hard breath and looks up at her.

Softly, in an almost inaudible tone, he says to his wife, "I love you" in his distinctive British voice. Their souls meet.

Her tears are flowing heavily now. "I love you, too!" she replies tenderly in her Japanese accent.

She holds him tightly now and vows never to let him go. A grin appears on her face, then his. God has answered her prayer!

The Word...will still be delivered; on this, the eighth day of December, nineteen eighty.


___________________________________
Copyright 2008 by Russell Waterman
All Rights Reserved
 



Offline ma100

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Re: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« Reply #1 on: June 17, 2008, 12:01:24 PM »
And you wonder if that would have happened had he lived.
Well done Russ.
Ma :)

Offline Akeith (Gray)

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Re: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« Reply #2 on: June 18, 2008, 07:16:08 AM »
Rewh2oman:

Wow. What a moving and interesting insight to that sad event.  This is a good piece. I can remember hearing about this when it happened.  I know a few people who will really enjoy reading this.

Gray

Offline Big T

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Re: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« Reply #3 on: June 18, 2008, 07:28:53 AM »
Well done Russ ... an excellent description of a sad event. I remember it well, I was a big fan.
Big T  :o

Offline rewh2oman

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Re: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« Reply #4 on: June 18, 2008, 11:14:20 AM »
Thanks Ma, Gray and Mr. Yellow himself ("T").

I appreciate the kind words. He meant/means a lot to me, as does George.

…Russ


Offline rewh2oman

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Re: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« Reply #5 on: June 23, 2008, 06:40:21 PM »
One Question: What genre would you classify this story as and why?

Offline ma100

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Re: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« Reply #6 on: June 23, 2008, 06:57:36 PM »
I am no good at genres Russ, but I think possibly romance. The love element really has put that in my mind. Hope that helps.

Ma

Offline rewh2oman

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Re: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« Reply #7 on: June 23, 2008, 07:20:09 PM »
Yes, thanks Ma! 
It's nice to get other perspectives. I was thinking spiritual/religious.

Unless it's obvious, how does one know? So many things cross boundaries.

Nadine L

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Re: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« Reply #8 on: June 27, 2008, 05:19:30 PM »
Russ,

Oh that nasty genre question! Can be confusing. The lines blur. This is the site that helped me with that question better than any other site. It is for books, but I think you can use it. http://www.agentquery.com/genre_descriptions.aspx

Reading the descriptions, I'd guess historical fiction/spiritual. Keep in mind, while popular within their own group, religious/spiritual labels can be off putting for other groups. I would probably start with historical fiction. However, I think music fan base readers would be my target group over historical fiction.

What does everyone else think?

(You know I like this piece, have already told you--just so no one thinks I'm ignoring your post.)

Nadine
« Last Edit: June 27, 2008, 05:21:39 PM by Nadine L »

Offline rewh2oman

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Re: Imagine, Another Number 9 Dream
« Reply #9 on: June 27, 2008, 06:09:05 PM »
hi nadine

thanks for the link. at first glance it looks like a good one.

thanks for your support.

...russ
« Last Edit: June 27, 2008, 06:10:49 PM by rewh2oman »