Peach Twist

I had the hell scared out of me this morning. I arose, not in an alcoholic fog, but as if I was a foreigner in a foreign land. I may be an odd type, still tt is hard to reconcile that I may not be able to continue to be employed in municipal capacities for not being able to keep my mouth shut about what goes on behind the desk. A change of venue has hastened the flood of mental manuevering and evolving.It has totally changed my posturing on everything from resusing water bottles to how pure and gentle human kindness is to work with clientle and personell.

In a different room over four years ago in this same building,I dreamt of flying in an airplane to the United Kingdom. I was expected, but not by any human hand. Possibly, I flew the rest of the way to my destination by helicopter. Once at the location I walked up to the front door and looked around. Was I looking for a note? A key? To the watcher it didn’t seem to matter, but I can still see the clean crisp air, red brick built up front and a black lacquer door at the porch stoop. The numbers on the door I committed to memory, only to sketchily forget upon waking up. I tried the door and went inside and up the stair. Children, mostly tweens and teens cuddled and huddled by window corners and around loose floor boards. I crossed over a carefully balanced plank back to the top of the stairs with the help of a etheral presence dressed in a rusted peach skirt. Last I remember was crossing back to through London  and stopping at The London Bar (I think there was two other stops). Some quick moment it seemed later, I awoke. Vivid, Lucid and detailed. I snatched the log and pencil from the desk and wrote.

I went directly to the computer and started researching details that I ransacked from my memory. One of those details was Oswald’s College. Less than 45 seconds later, my answer was partially resolved. I had found the old Saint Oswald’s College which was an Orphanage back in the 1800’s and 1900’s. There was a boy’s and a girl’s orphanage. Having confirmed that, I checked what and where was London Bar. I found it. If you map out the locations, it is a perfect route to get to the orphanage and back though London. The route takes into account resting, enjoying the atmosphere and people.

Some may ask me one day, why be concerned? I took into account a phenomena that happened during the 1930’s. As a result of the depression, many children, kids, tweens and teens were left behind. Their parents just left them and no one would take them in. Some kids took the orphan trains west from the east coast and would hopefully find a home. Frequently they were put to work. My mind puts up a red flag these days. The reason: all of the animals being given to shelters or left stock pilled in mobile homes becasue those who are evicted, foreclosed upon or downsized can not take the animal with them. My fear is kids will be left behind for strays much like fido, fluffy or socks.

Things happen and you can’t cover everything, but, use your common sense. Is this a period in history were we should be preparing for Oliver Twist to come? Somewhere in my heart, I think Fagan was a homosexual pedaphile. Dodger, took the hard way by stealing. Oliver, saved by the grace of god and his innocence didn’t result in too hard of a knot on his head so as not to think positively.

 

written by Segezi Malevich

copywrite July 17, 2009