“Be safe, my love.” She kissed him on his cheek and he smiled in his sleep. Katie laid next to her sleeping husband, smothering him with the spooning warmth of her frenzied body, her hands reaching out, clutching his. She felt the angel leave the room, like the soft evaporated whist of a breath withdrawn. In the darkened room, she heard the messenger's whisper. A powerful arm of evil water reached out from the base of the waterfall, grabbed the boat like a child's toy and sucked the kayak into a deep pool of wet death. Wade was in the boat, dressed in animal skins, his eyes alert that real death was at hand. Katie watched as the kayak shot out from the waterfall, nose down in free fall. The angel extended his left arm, palm up and open, as if holding the kayak in place. The bow of a long kayak made of whalebone, driftwood, and sea lion skins appeared at the top of the waterfall and hung there. She was standing by his side on a riverbank near the bottom of a tall waterfall facing up together. The angelic messenger was a young man, handsome and strong. She laid her head back on the pillow, savoring the dream, hoping to find meaning. Next to her, Wade was sound asleep, his head buried face down in a pillow. Sharing is Caring I know how beautiful and courageous it is to dip the pen in the inkwell early on, then to stay motivated, finding other voices to keep you inspired. Katie Jones shook her head, ever so slightly, coming out of the bruises of a crystal clear dream. Barry James Hickey shares some of his entertaining pain and suffering as a novelist.
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