Tag Archives: Fiction

The Gospel Hour


The Gospel of Micah, AKA the Gospel of Enoch. Micah was a goat herder on a planet known to us as Heaven. He was a simple man but became prominent in the politics of religion when he challenged the idea that the earth was flat. “It’s not,” he spoke up in a class he was taking on Goat Herding that was required of all goat herders. “It is curved, like a woman’s breast, but not soft, hard as concrete.” 6.23.19 Copyright Gordon Kuhn, Poet in the Rain.

With apologies to the Mormons: And it came to pass that Micah was summoned forth to meet the highest council having been through the lower courts to argue that the earth was round. “You still claim the earth is round?” An aged sage sat forward and waved his cane in the goat herders face. But Micah held his ground despite the waving rod thrust up against his nose.”Excuse me, sir, but yes, it is round.” The council sat back and were grave all around. “But don’t you understand that we’ve been teaching humans for centuries that the place is flat? Then you come along and wish it to be known that this place, this Earth is round? I say to my brothers on the council, are we not in motion to send the herder down to the planet in banishment?” Whereupon God’s younger brother Phil entered the central room and to all did astound. “I am here to speak on the goat herder’s behalf.” A murmur did raise among those in the hall and one said, “I thought he had been banished or…..or locked up somewhere.” But Phil stood forth with an askew grin, “No, I have escaped and come to stand before you this day. For surely this herder, this gentleman who tends our sheep and smells like them needs defense from such plotting here.”

Advertisements

The Church Lady & The Preacher


There once was an old lady who went church and sat at the very back. She was partially deaf but would shout out her agreement with the preacher at various times. One Sunday the preacher was talking about the sins of mankind and began by shouting out about the use of drink. The woman yelled: AMEN. The minister then began to talk about loose morals and the woman shouted: AMEN. He then drew up in total disgust and started talking about chewing tobacco and from the back of the church the woman yelled: MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.

Where did the year go?


Another year moving into history. Seems strange. I am still in January.

Well, for Jan and I it has been an up and down year with moving away and then moving back when we discovered that “friends” weren’t friends and that the VA doesn’t have the medical facilities in Georgia that we thought they had.

So, here we are back in Florida with all of our friends and it is wonderful. The only sad thing is that my service dog Tread has a fungus in his hip and tail bone. No body knows how it got there and it is an expensive and long fight to save his life. We now have gone past $5,000 in expenses and have 5 months more of a fight to go. We do have wonderful help from our Vet and the Vets at the University of Georgia School of Veterinary Science. We are also fortunate in that we have medical insurance on him and that has reduced our cost significantly. BUT travel and motel rooms are not covered as is part of the medical. However, we are fortunate that we do have a lot covered and are very grateful for the folks at Healthy Paws.

I have a newsletter at Constant Contact and if any of you wish to be a subscriber just send me you email to gkuhnwrites@aol.com

In the meantime I am trying to find a literary agent for my true crime book: Nightmare in Terra Ceia.

I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and I hope a wonderful New Year.

Blessings! Gordon Kuhn

Walking with a Dead Butterfly


Walking with a Dead Butterfly

Come fly away now gentle butterfly
Open your wings and capture a breath of wind
Set sail and say goodbye to the world below
Let not your heart in pain deny
Your right to sail the summer sky
For you are special, my valiant friend
You’ve come so far in life in so few days
And changed your coat of moldy gray
To joyfully spread rainbow colors in patterns rich
While sharing your beauty in wild, tumultuous flight
So short your life has come and gone
Come dance with me as I watch you twist and spin
Until your energy has been spent and you start to fail and fall
As you struggle with the pending doorway of death
No matter where you could have landed in the end
You somehow fell to earth beside the path
That I was silently walking there upon.

Priestly Arrives —- Ragdoll Chronicles. 1.25.18


Ragdoll Chronicles 01.25.18
“Throw him down the chute!” The five merged on Chase who was trying to get out what appeared to be the front door but it was in fact a door to nowhere. The storm he had ventured through and from which he had sought refuge by entering the restaurant was not visible through the glass——actually, nothing was. The door was locked and on the other side of the glass it was just like a giant fog had settled in blocking everything out from view.
Just as they were about to grab Chase, a mist formed in the room and when they all turned to see what was the cause they found a massive crow that stood as tall and as broad as any of them present.
“What the hell?” the raccoon shouted. “Where did that come from?”
The crow looked around himself. “Where is the pond? Where is the glen?” He stepped towards the others who were backing up to avoid contact with the bird’s sharp beak.
“Who are you?” the mouse asked while trying to hide behind the orangutan.
“Priestly,” the crow replied stiffening up quite regally. “And who might you be?”
“This has to be Runa’s doing,” the brown bear said looking around the room nervously. “We need to get clear of this or we will be sucked into this mess as well.”
“I say we toss both of them down the chute,” suggested the mouse trying his best to not be seen by the crow. “We need to get shut of this before the inspectors arrive.”
“Inspectors?” the crow asked surveying the room while stepping closer to the five who were doing their best to find an avenue of escape, but the crow, as large as it was, blocked them and held them there with the boy shoved up against the wall behind them.
“Let me go,” the boy shouted, but his voice was muffled as he was slightly compressed behind the brown bear who was pushing the mouse forward almost as an offering. The mouse, of course, was squealing with complaint and trying to get back behind everyone including Chase.
It was then that Priestly discovered a part of the ribbons that had been Nouveau were wrapped around his left leg—and, he heard a muffled voice. As a matter of fact, they all heard it but couldn’t make out what was being said and so they all dismissed it until the mouse took note that wherever Priestly walked the ribbon that was wrapped around his leg extended back to the point on the floor where he had appeared and it then disappeared into a slowly forming pool of water there on the floor.

The Restaurant: Ragdoll Chronicles 1.15.18


Ragdoll Chronicles 01.15.18
“Throw him down the chute!” The five merged on Chase who was trying to get out what appeared to be the front door but was in fact a door to nowhere. The storm he had come through was not visible through the glass, nothing was. Just as they were about to grab him a mist formed in the room and when they all turned to see what was the cause they found a crow that stood as tall and as broad as any of them present.
“What the hell?” the raccoon shouted. “Where did that come from?”
The crow looked around himself. “Where is the pond? Where is the glen?” He stepped towards the others who were backing up to avoid contact with the bird’s sharp beak.
“Who are you?” the mouse asked while trying to hide behind the orangutan.
“Priestly,” the crow replied stiffening up quite regally. “Andy who might you be?”
“This has to be Runa’s doing,” the brown bear said. “We need to get clear of this or we will be sucked into this mess as well.”
“I say we toss both of them down the chute,” suggested the mouse trying his best to not be seen by the crow. “We need to get shut of this before the inspectors arrive.”
“Inspectors?” the crow asked while stepping closer to the five who were doing their best to find an avenue of escape, but the crow, as large as it was, blocked them and held them there with the boy shoved up against the wall behind them.

RUNAWAY: Ragdoll Chronicles 01.03.1918


NOTE THESE ENTRIES ARE THE DRAFT OF A BOOK I AM WRITING AND THERE WILL BE ERRORS.
=================================================================
Ragdoll Chronicles 1.13.18 @ 0515 © Gordon Kuhn All rights reserved.
“Get away from the pond,” both Starter and Cawkin shouted while waving their wings and hopping up and down. But it was too late. One stepped up and placed a foot in the water, quite accidentally actually, but accidentally sometimes doesn’t matter and in this case it did not.
“What?” the crow called back.
“Get away from the pond,” the pair again shouted. But it was too late. They could do nothing but watch as the other crow at the pond melted away in the mist rising from the waters at its feet.
“She has him,” Cawkin said.
“Can’t we do something?” Started began to flap his wings and move forward anticipating a run to the where the disappearance had taken place.
“No. We have no idea where she might have taken him and besides, that’s just her way of teasing to come closer.
“But what about Nouveau? They found rags over there.”
“It’s a trap. She is showing us the rags to get us over there. She has him too.”
“But where?”
“God knows. I don’t.”
“Can we go after him?”
Cawkin looked at Starter for a very long moment of silence. “We can but….”
~
Robert made a dash to his car through the stinging rain. However, he had to stop short of the vehicle because as he approached it he discovered it actually was floating several feet in the air and at each attempt to grab hold of a door handle the car just moved higher. Finally, he set off on foot in the direction of the small local lake where he and Chase were planning on going fishing later that day.
Chase had a good lead on his father as he had already walked several blocks pursued by a strong wind that pushed him forward. Every time he stopped and thought about turning back he was slammed with gusts that knocked him down. Behind him was a wall of rain that was coming ever closer. Then, ahead, he saw the lights of a small restaurant and he ran for it hoping to get inside and out of the weather.
As he stepped into the lighted diner he was suddenly aware that he had never been there before and, actually, he had never known of this place but the smell of cooking hamburgers lured him further in. At first, it appeared to be like any other small restaurant. There were several booths and a small counter with five stools. But Chase sensed that something was odd about the place and then he saw that the people seated at the counter weren’t what you would expect. Four looked like very large animals with one human seated there and all were eating breakfast.
The opening of the door and the rush of wind and rain that accompanied Chase had drew the attention of the five and they all turned to look at him.
“Ah, look what we have here,” the man said pointing at Chase. “A human child.”
“A child? A boy child?” a very large brown bear seated at the end of the counter spun on his stool and asked staring in disbelief.
“No. Really?” a small creature resembling a white mouse seated next to the man spoke in a very low voice and looked to others for an answer. “It cannot be here. We must make it leave.”
Next to the mouse was a raccoon appearing creature and to his right sat an orangutan with bright red and long fur. The two grunted agreement. The racc00n picked up a piece of toast from its plate and, holding it between his hands, offered it to Chase, “Come boy, are you hungry? If so, eat and then, by the blessed ground hog, please leave.”
“No sir,” Chase replied softly. “I’m not hungry. I — I came in from the rain.”
“Well then,” joined in the large brown bear seated at the end of the counter, “why are you here. This is a restaurant. And, rain? You say, you came in from the rain? I don’t see any rain.”
“Uh huh,” Chase said glancing around, “it’s the strangest restaurant I have ever been in. And look at me, I’m dripping wet.”
“From what?” asked the brown bear. “Did you stand in your shower with your clothes on and then come here?”
“No.”
“What’s that?” asked the mouse. “I couldn’t hear what he said.” He shook his head.
The orangutan snickered.
“Did you pour water over yourself?”
“No, it’s raining outside.”
“Outside, where outside? I see no outside.” The brown bear questioned.
“What?” asked the mouse. “Oh damn, I can’t hear either one. He turned to the raccoon as if to ask for help.
“Turn you hearing aids on you dope,” said the raccoon and slapped the mouse on the back of the head.
“I have them on,” the mouse protested rubbing the back of his head.
“Well, turn the volume up.”
“It is up.”
“Here,” the raccoon said, “let me see them.” He jerked one out of the mouse’s ear.
“Ouch,” complained the mouse. “Don’t just jerk them out. They are costly and if the queen even knew I had them I would pay dearly, perhaps even with my life.”
“Oh, for Thor’s sake, do you have to bring up the queen?” The orangutan knocked over his cup of coffee spilling the hot liquid all over the counter and his newspaper.
The brown bear raised its hand, “What’s that?”
“What?” said the mouse.
“I hear bells ringing.”
“I hear nothing,” said the mouse.
“Of course you don’t you idiot, you didn’t have any batteries in the hearing aids,” the raccoon told angrily.
“They are growing louder,” the brown bear stood up and looked around for the source.
“It’s getting closer,” the man said. “It must be the queen or her guard.
“GET RID OF THE BOY!” They all said at once.
“How,” the orangutan asked.
“Throw him down the chute!” the man said grabbing at Chase.
“YES,” the others all agreed. “Throw him down the chute!”

Chase Seeks Refuge from the Rain. 01.10.2018 @ 0312


Denise staggered to the front door in a daze. She turned the knob and the wind flung the door free of her grip.
“Jesus!” Robert stepped inside, his face contorted with anger and concern. “Where is the boy?” He grabbed his former wife by her shoulders. “How could you let this happen?”

“I had no way to stop it,” Denise went limp in his grip. “She came and went so fast I didn’t have time to react to her. I never expected her to—“

“That’s the problem; you never expected anything, not from me, not from her, from Chase, from anybody and know we are forced into a corner.”

“What are we going to do?”

“What I should have done years ago. Find her, get Chase back, and then kill her.”

“What are you nuts?” Denise turned on him with anger, spit flying. “You can’t kill her.” She pushed him away. “She has been alive for centuries and you think you, Mr. Robert Langdon, the famous do-nothing drunk from Havinerty Township can kill her?”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll not shut up. Just what the fuck are you thinking?” Denise wrapped her arms about herself and closed the front door. “You think you can just walk up and kill her?” She threw her arms up in the air. “How the fuck do you know she’s not here now and listening to you? You don’t, do you, dumb ass?”

“Well—” he started unsure of what to say and then added angrily, “Well, I don’t know what else to do. We have to get Chase back and the only way we can do that is to kill her.”

Denise walked into her kitchen and sat down at the table burying her face in her hands. “You can’t kill her,” her voice was muffled. She sat back and looking at Robert shook her head. “Do you hear me? Even if you could, and you and I both know you can’t do it. You can’t kill her.”

“Why?”

“He’ll never forgive you.”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

Denise stood and went to the stove where a coffee pot sat warming on the flames. “You know he’ll know it and you will cause such a stir in her world that they will come and take him and God knows what they will do to us. Even if you could somehow kill her and I don’t think it’s possible.” She poured herself a cup and stared at the stove while stirring in creamer, her hands trembling.

“There has to be away.”

“He’s her son,” Denise said softly with tears running down her face. “There is nothing we can do.” A hand swept the trail of water from her cheeks. She sighed and lifted the cup to her lips. Robert stood behind her. There was nothing he could think of to say, but he knew, he knew it was true.

Finally he put his hands on Denise’s shoulders from behind. “Maybe,” he began, “maybe she doesn’t have him. Maybe he ran out and….and had gone someplace to hide. It’s a shot.”

“Uh huh,” Denise said and lowered her head. “She’s got him.”

“Not necessarily. Look, give me time, an hour, before you start any incantations, and let me go look.”

A tremendous flash of light lit up the whole house inside followed by a roll of thunder that shook everything.

“She knows,” Denise said. “She knows but maybe you are right, maybe she doesn’t have him.” She turned and faced Robert. “Go, now, I’ll wait.”

But Robert was already at the door. “That lightning bolt told me she doesn’t have him. I think I know where he’s at.” With that he was out the door and into the rain which suddenly had grown more violent.
=================================================================

The Pond: Ragdoll Chronicles Cont. 1.9.2018 at 0315


“Nouveau!” the entire Murder of Crows called out. Some took to the air to scan the surrounding area as the Clowder of Cats spread out also searching.

Cawkin stood still as all about him searchers called out to the Rag Man. “The Gypsy Girl,” he turned to Starter. “Did anyone get her name?”

“Yes,” Starter replied. “And you aren’t going to like it I’m afraid.”

Cawkin stepped up to stand in front of Starter. “Is it,” he hesitated, “Runa?”

Starter moved in closer to Cawkin to conceal his voice, “Yes. I recognized her from the air, but—”

“Shit,” Cawkin kicked at the earth with his right foot. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well—uh—I didn’t think it mattered just then.”

“Mattered? Runa didn’t matter?”

“I found some rags,” a voice called out.

Cawkin stared into Starter’s eyes. “Please tell me that they are not going to where the pond used to be.”

Before Starter could answer a startled collection of voices called out to one another, “Where’d this pond come from?”

“I don’t recall this pond being here before,” someone said from on wing above.

“Nor the river. Look at how blue and clear the pond is.”

Cawkin turned as did Starter and both shouted, “Stay away from the pond.” But it was too late, several had moved to within a few yards of the sparkling yellow sand that surrounded it.

“The ground here is very warm and I hear bells,” the closest crow called to its wing-mates.

“There are rags in the water,” another crow called out.

“And over here on the bank,” another responded.

Aleen; The Ragdoll Chronicles 01.08.2018


01.08.18 Ragdoll Chronicles Cont.

He sat up high on the hill above the city of Ilandia His six foot wingspan had been closed and wrapped securely around him more for warmth than stealth and concealment. He sat alone, disliking being near the others who were mostly newlings out for their first hunt and kill mission. They were all several hundred feet below him babbling about how lucky they had been too fly with such a master.

“Master,” he snarled to himself after overhearing one of their comments. “What do they know of Masters. They are too young to know the virtues of such as Anloch the Strong who took out a thousand Betweens on a day many called ‘Judgement Day.'” He snorted and tightened the grip of his wings upon his body.
“Still strong,” he looked down at himself, at the muscle structure of his arms. “After all these years, still strong,” he sniffed in pleasure and recalled his first mission.

“They are missionaries, not unlike us, but of different beliefs and that is the danger,” Anloch had said in a snarl, his gargoyle like face close to Aleen’s. “Kill them swiftly, little one. Surprise those of your kind larger than you. Surprise them at your strength and keep in mind,” his voice dropped low and his lips touched Aleen’s ear, “there will come a day when you will have to those you serve as well. And, yes,” the others voice was close in his ear and he could feel the hot breath on his neck, “there will come a time when you may even have to kill me.”

Aleen stiffened at the thought and then remembered watching Anloch struggle as surprise swept over the other’s face and he grabbed for the open wound on his throat trying to stop the spray of blood as it rushed up and out from the fatal slash Aleen had provided him. Aleen had stepped back from his master as the teacher died before him struggling to grab Aleen just as he turned and with a jump was airborne and slipping into the night sky. “Traitor,” Anloch shouted, his voice bubbling from the rush of blood ,and then Aleen’s teacher, guide, his best friend, died from the mortal wound Aleen had delivered.