Roger had not returned to the old Arnold Estate in more than thirty years, though he’d had ample opportunity to do so on numerous occasions, maintaining his lifelong ties to Rhode Island. Once the family moved to Georgia in 1980, he never looked back. Having made his great escape with a wife and five daughters in tow, there was no reason to return to the farm and risk exposing a wound incapable of healing, one discreetly hidden within his heart. Mustering all the courage required to gaze upon a place he still considered the biggest loss of his life, a somber soul pulled his car into the dirt driveway. There they were…waiting. The current owners were expecting them. “If we had only hung onto this place, it would have been worth a fortune.” But it was more than dollars and good sense at work on his mind. Andrea glanced at her father, instantly recognizing the true source of regret in his eyes. He had always loved the farm and has mourned the loss every day since.
To friends, family and followers of:
“House of Darkness House of Light” ~
Because all of you have been so patient and supportive, here’s a taste of what is coming.
Soon. Very soon. Out of my hands (finally) and in production. I’ll keep you posted. In the interim, I thought you might enjoy just a nibble of Volume One and please pass it along:
A Proper Introduction
“You are whatever a moon has always meant,
and whatever a sun will always sing is you.”
During those final desperate moments of her life, was she frightened by her own intentions or steadfast in her resolve? How could a woman of such advanced age climb a rickety ladder to the hayloft of the barn and reach over to a beam from which to suspend a rope? Had life become so intolerable to the beleaguered soul, a drastic measure appeared to be her only option for retreat? Perhaps she was ill and had suffered too long in her own wrinkled skin. What measure of pain prompts the notion to deliberately end a precious life? Had she carried her woes up the ladder or had she made peace with the concept, as well as with her Creator? Did she believe the decision was her own privileged one to make or did she suspect she risked punishment from a God who reserves such judgments as His own, unforgiving of those who take matters into mortal hands? One thing is known for certain; far more than a century ago, Mrs. John Arnold claimed her own life at the age of ninety-three and was discovered, cold and gray, stiff as the wood on which she was found dangling from the rafters of an ancient barn. Now, suspended in the ether just as surely as she was hanging from the unraveling end of a makeshift noose, her immortality lives on as the stuff of legend and folklore; a mystery from the ages…for the ages. She may have considered it her only escape and yet, truth be told, there was no escape for her spirit. Whether as an act of eternal damnation for an ill-conceived exit from mortal existence, or as the consequence of a premature departure, she lingers still, remaining in the place where she once lived out her life…then died.