Tis the bewitching hour…

‘Tis the bewitching hour and all is silent in the house, but the constant hum of my laptop and the swish of water as it floods the dishwasher down the hall. Charley is here at my side and his look is one of consternation, though I am uncertain why. There is a sadness about his lips that tells me something is not right in his world- or perhaps something not right in mine and I have yet to be advised of such. Regardless, I have weathered so much change of late I am all but sick from the vertigo and almost numb at my very core from caring.

I have begun the beginning…and with telling Charley’s story it is such an odd place to start. For to tell Charley‘s story right, one must begin it at the end- his end- and it is a most disturbing place to revisit. Anxious for bed and eager for the comfort of slumber from such a weary day, I bait my friend in the 8 x 10 to visit in my dreams and share a bit of knowledge so that my daylight hours can be less consumed.

It is said this month that I shall receive some hidden information- a secret to be revealed. I wait, hoping that my blind fidelity is not in vain. I have made a major overture and pray God that my information and impressions are of value and weight- else I be branded a fool. But trust is the name of the game and if I have learned nothing else… I have learned that I have not been abandoned, though often I feel as though I walk alone.

A secret tonight my dear friend.
A secret for your liberty.
A secret that will set the wheels of this great beast in motion.

Grim, you have but so few days left… call me. You know how to find me. Tell me everything or leave me to fill in the blanks as I will. The book is now underway and your identity shall figure most prominent. Oh don’t worry… I shall change the names to protect the guilty! But they will know Grim- they will all know who I am talking about. I shall give details and descriptions- right down to the color of your glass frames!

Sleep tight!

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