There was a young paleontology exchange student from the orient named Lati Do. On an expedition she encountered a set of fossilized bones which, very peculiarly, were arranged as in the manner of the musical scale. She excitedly asked the renowned paleontologist in charge of the dig, “professor, what type of creature was that?” He replied dispassionately, “why, that’s a Doe Reime fossil, Lati Do.”
Cool summer’s dusk comes
Fireflies dance in moon-lit skies
Agog I am awed
I’m certain that you remember back to the time, just after the Earth was formed. One could wander far from Adam and Eve’s domain and be totally alone, surrounded by animals who feared us not and we needed not fear. The water tasted as sweet as existence itself. The entire globe wore a thick cover of water vapor concealing the moon’s shape at night and there were no stars, even were there no mantle of atmospheric moisture to block their glow. After the great flood, the Earth was so much different, yet the firmament, finally a scant few beacons of light, proudly revealed themselves, growing in number, seemingly nightly, as their proof having journeyed so far, finally found its way here. We cannot go back to that time any more than the illumination can journey back to the stars from which it originated, just as I cannot return to mend mankind’s mistakes. My purpose here has been served in that capacity, for I yet have other duties, and as you surely understand for which purpose I needn’t elaborate further. The longer that I live, the seemingly more inscrutable humans become, That is, however, until I focus on life’s meaning. Fret not over the past, forget it never and learn from it. Fear not the future, for if you have planned for it properly, it houses your due reward. Aeons seem to last but an instant, yet men perceive time as a constant. Why do I find so many things amusing, particularly this fact?
I am never alone anymore. There are no visitors here in my home, but yet I feel an unfamiliar presence. The bumps, footsteps, and shuffling sounds are always in another room or above me in the attic. Why am I am being watched, for what sinister purpose? I do not know. I heard voices yet again today. They can’t be talking about me, I said to myself, but still I know that I perceived my name being whispered softly in my ear just moments ago. I bravely peeked through the narrow passage to the garret today, the sultry, musty air shoved by me as I opened the portal; it seemed apparent to my vision that there was nothing amiss, yet I felt as if someone were peering back at me from within a dark shadow in the foreboding corner. Alas, it has become bitterly cold since those fearsome moments and but a mere hour has since passed, as Fall has made the transition, reluctantly giving her way to cold and unforgiving Winter. I rest in my bed alone now, warmed cozily by my thick quilt; I am so very weary, yet I fear sleep’s inevitable embrace as the room grows dark, for I hear the voices once again; they are calling my name.
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