Phil,
This  is great.
I'll be looking forward to the next chapter and the rest of the book.
Vinny
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Phil Scovell" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Saturday, December 16, 2006 10:56 PM
Subject: Re: end Of Time Prologue


> Kathy,
>
> I hope you aren't thinking it is me but if you are, someone else has 
> already
> called and suggested the same thing.  Yes, I always try and put part of my
> personality and background into whatever I write but not because I think 
> I'm
> so wonderful.  It gives me a way of expressing realism and given true
> character to a personality in the story line.  I do this with just about
> everybody I know at one time or another.  In this case, the idea of a near
> end times story came to mind out of the clear blue.  I kept thinking about
> an old man, if you call 70 years of age old, and as I sat and thought 
> about
> him recently, I just made part of his character my heritage.  I felt freer
> then when developing the story around that person.  I have been thinking a
> lot recently about what life is going to be like near the beginning of the 
> 7
> years of tribulation.  I guess I recently have been struck with things
> happening around the world that I have heard in prophetic preaching all my
> life that is just now coming true.  I honestly never thought, in my life
> time, I would witness such events.  Years ago I started a novel on the
> tribulation but gave up after a few chapters.  Then I started another one 
> on
> the Millennium.  It is difficult to stay motivated when you don't have
> someone, an agent for example, encouraging and pushing you far enough 
> until
> a few chapters are written and an outline is then scripted, and the 
> attempts
> to market the manuscript become a reality.  Anyhow, I always end up 
> throwing
> in character traits that are personal just to try and make it less taxing 
> on
> my imagination to develop a character.  As you will be reading about this
> man more in subsequent chapters, I can honestly say, I wish I was that
> person.  At the moment, all I know is that the man is called by God to do
> something.  I don't even know what that is at the moment.  That, too, is
> somewhat analogous of where I am spiritually right now myself.  I sense 
> the
> Lord doing something but I'm not exactly sure what it is yet.  I have an
> idea but if I revealed what those things were, people really would say I 
> was
> crazy.
>
> Phil.
>
>
>
> ----- Original Message ----- 
> From: "Kathy Du Bois" <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Sent: Saturday, December 16, 2006 4:39 PM
> Subject: Re: end Of Time Prologue
>
>
>> Phil,
>> I know who the prophet is.  Keep writing brother!  Awesome!
>> Kathy
>>
>>
>>
>> At 05:23 PM 12/16/2006, you wrote:
>> >I have no idea where this book is going but in the last two weeks, ideas
>> >have been coming to me.  I decided I best start writing things down.
> This
>> >is not the final prologue of the book but only a first draft.  I thought
>> >some of you might like to read it.
>> >
>> >Phil.
>> >
>> >                             PROLOGUE
>> >
>> >The year is 2022
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> >      The man entered the cold quiet barn.  Early morning light
>> >dimly illuminated the now century old barn.  He wanted to billed
>> >a new one but he didn't have enough money and permits were never
>> >granted for such building structures any longer.  He had enough
>> >acres of trees that he and his two boys could use but something
>> >told him not to cut those fine tall trees down just yet.  Life
>> >had certainly changed.  He had grown up on this farms and it had
>> >been own by his great great grandfather.  They owned a full
>> >section, 620 acres, but the government had tried everything in
>> >the book to force them out in the last 20 years.  So far, the
>> >Lord had somehow legally out smarted them all.  The old barn,
>> >though, wasn't going to last too much longer.  Maybe, he thought,
>> >he'd be in here working some day and the thing would fall on him
>> >and he'd be killed.
>> >
>> >      Locating the bucket, he washed it out and pulled his stool
>> >over to the first of the two cows he had left.  The rest of his
>> >milking cows had been mysteriously killed and in some most
>> >unusual and weird ways.  He'd read about it for decades, of
>> >course, and it was generally called cattle mutilation but that
>> >myth had been exposed years ago.  Still, people chose to believe
>> >it.
>> >
>> >      He began milking and he sighed as he thought about how much
>> >he missed church.  They were 55 miles from town.  all the land
>> >all the way around him, except for the road right away to the
>> >highway, was owned by the corporate farms.  There were no more
>> >government subsidies and there hadn't been for many years.  It
>> >was, he knew, the way the government tried squeezing small
>> >operations out.  It had worked, for the most part, too.  His
>> >farm, however, had been free and clear for over 50 years.  Now
>> >his farm only provided for his family.  Actually, they lived as
>> >royalty, as far as farming was concerned, but you could no longer
>> >buy parts for the farm equipment and thanks to his God given
>> >skills and his small machine shop, he was able to manufacture
>> >just about anything needed to keep most of the equipment running.
>> >
>> >      His mind went back to thinking about church.  The building
>> >had burned, of course, and the pastor killed in the fire.  His
>> >family, and quite a number of church members had been moved to
>> >the so called debtor's prison because they could no longer pay
>> >their bills.  They were really FEMA camps, of course, which had
>> >been built before the turn of the century.  He had seen pictures
>> >and privately made movies of the places, even since some of the
>> >people had been moved into them to live like cattle.  Worse,
>> >actually, and he wondered how long it would be before he and his
>> >family would be forced into such camps.
>> >
>> >
>> >      He was a Christian, and had been born again since about 7
>> >years of age.  He read the Bible every morning and every night
>> >and he read, and reread, all the theological books, magazines,
>> >and newsletters and pamphlets he had collected over the years but
>> >he didn't feel spiritually capable of really spiritually leading
>> >his own family.  He didn't know why he felt that way but he did.
>> >He sighed again, leaning his forehead about the animal as he
>> >continued milking.
>> >
>> >      then he heard the sound and stopped milking.  He had heard
>> >it before but was so used to focusing on his thoughts as he
>> >milked, his mind had simply ignored the noise.  There it was
>> >again.  He didn't like it and sat up straight and cocked his head
>> >to listen.  The third time he recognized it and rose from his
>> >stool and walked to the ladder leading to the hay loft high over
>> >head.  climbing slowly, he inched his way higher and higher until
>> >his eyes were barely above the level of hay.  He looked around
>> >but it was pretty dark.  He hung on the ladder for a few moments
>> >until he was positive of the sound's location.  He then quietly
>> >lowered himself, step by step, until he reached the floor again.
>> >He glanced at his watch to see how much longer it might be before
>> >more sunlight might filter into the old barn.
>> >
>> >      Quietly leaving the barn, and completely forgetting about
>> >the cows, he moved a ladder, laying on the ground, to one end of
>> >the barn.  He had to stand on the second to the top rung to reach
>> >the rope hanging down but once he did, he was able to unlatch the
>> >large barn window which they opened when stacking bails of hay.
>> >It creaked a lot louder than he would have preferred but it
>> >didn't take him long to completely lower it.
>> >
>> >      Leaving the ladder against the barn, he reentered the
>> >building and climbed the ladder to the loft once again.  His ears
>> >registered the sound as it continued repeating itself so he knew
>> >he was safe.
>> >
>> >      Again, he lifted his head barely above the level of hay and
>> >now he could see the mound clearly.  He continued his climb and
>> >carefully edged his way onto the hay.  Standing slowly, he walked
>> >to the mound in one corner of the barn which lay near the now
>> >opened loft window.  The mound of hay was clearly visible and the
>> >snoring coming from the man under the hay was clearly heard.
>> >Using his foot, he wished he'd brought his shotgun with him, he
>> >kicked some of the hay away until a pair of old shoes were
>> >visible.  Moving to the other end, he did the same and a man's
>> >head appears.  An old cowboy hat covered the man's face and he
>> >ben slowly down and removed the hat and tossed it aside.  The
>> >man, he guess, was at least 70 or 75 and the way his cheeks were
>> >sunken, he likely hadn't eaten much for awhile.  Joe couldn't
>> >remember the last time somebody had sneaked into his hay loft and
>> >slept the night away.  Strangers just didn't roam around any
>> >more.  Not without getting arrested anyhow.
>> >
>> >      Remembering his milking, he figured now was as good as any
>> >and with his food he gently, at first, nudged the sleeping figure
>> >in the side.  The snoring continued.  It was loud enough to wake
>> >the dead, Joe thought.  He nudged the man again.  Still nothing.
>> >The snoring confirmed the sleeping figure at least wasn't dead so
>> >Joe kick him again and this time none too gently.  the figure
>> >stirred.  There was some snorting and coughing and then the man
>> >touched his face and realized his hat was gone.  His eyes snapped
>> >open and stared directly into Joe's eyes.
>> >
>> >      "Good morning, sir," the elderly man said.  His voice was
>> >calm, showed no fear, and was steady as a rock.
>> >
>> >      "What are you doing in my barn?" Joe demanded but
>> >overwhelmed by the beauty of the man's unusual eyes.
>> >
>> >      "Sleeping, sir.  I'm sorry I didn't ask first, but it was
>> >about 3 o'clock this morning when I got here so I thought it best
>> >not to disturbed you or your family."
>> >
>> >      "Get up," Joe barked.
>> >
>> >      The man obeyed but he was slow.  when he finally got to his
>> >feet, it was with obvious difficulty.  "This hay is difficult for
>> >me to maintain my balance, sir.  I'm sorry."
>> >
>> >      "I don't want drunks sleeping it off in my barn," Joe said
>> >angrily.
>> >
>> >      "I'm no drunk, sir," the old man said calmly.  "I have never
>> >had anything to drink in my life."
>> >
>> >      "Well, then," Joe blustered, "I don't want any bums sleeping
>> >in my barn either."
>> >
>> >      "I understand, sir, and I don't blame you.  I'll take my
>> >leave then, unless, of course, you prefer to report me to the
>> >authorities."
>> >
>> >      "I may be mean, mister, but I'm not that mean.  I just want
>> >you out of my barn and off my property."
>> >
>> >      "Understood," the old man said.  "One can't be too careful
>> >these days.  I am not stable on my feet, sir.  Would you mind
>> >handing me my hat and cane?"
>> >
>> >      Joe had noticed the wooden cane laying where the man had
>> >been sleeping.  "Get it yourself," and Joe stepped back several
>> >paces in order to be certain the old man could not reach him.
>> >Even then, Joe realized he had no way of protecting himself if
>> >the man had a weapon hidden in his heavy coat.
>> >
>> >      The old man nodded his understanding and slowly picked up
>> >his cane.  He hobbled over to his cowboy hat carefully on the
>> >uneven surface of hay and bent to pick it up but fell.  Putting
>> >the hat on his head, and hanging the crook of his wooden cane on
>> >his arm, Joe watched as he crawled back to where he had been
>> >sleeping.  Pushing some of the hay back, he pulled a worn Bible
>> >into the open and with considerable effort, and using his cane to
>> >assist himself, he got to his feet.  It took him three tries.
>> >
>> >      "Can you make it down the ladder yourself?" Joe said, his
>> >voice softened.
>> >
>> >      "Oh, I can make it down, sir, one way or another.  Climbing
>> >up here, I must admit, was easier than going down but even if I
>> >fall, I'll at least be down."  He smiled at Joe then.
>> >
>> >      "I'll go down before you and help the best I can," and Joe
>> >headed for the ladder.
>> >
>> >      "thank you.  That is very kind of you," the old man said as
>> >Joe made his way to the ladder.
>> >
>> >      "Ok," Joe called up.  "Be careful.  Take your time.  I'll
>> >steady you as much as I can."
>> >
>> >      Soon the old man's legs came into view.  "I'm going to drop
>> >my cane down," the old man said, "so I can use both hands."
>> >
>> >      "Ok," Joe said in reply.
>> >
>> >      The cane clattered to the barn floor.  Joe bent and stood it
>> >against the wall.
>> >
>> >      "Drop your Bible down to me, too, and I can hold it for you
>> >while you come down."  He had no idea why he was even helping the
>> >old man but a man with a bible couldn't be that dangerous.  Joe
>> >then guided the man's feet to each of the rungs as he slowly
>> >descended.
>> >
>> >      When he reached the floor, the man was breathing heavily.
>> >"I fear I would have never made it, sir, without your help.
>> >Thank you."
>> >
>> >      "Come on," Joe said without responding to the man's
>> >kindness, "it's time to go.  I'll carry your Bible for now." and
>> >taking him by the arm, he guided him until they passed through
>> >where the cows were.
>> >
>> >      The old man saw the stool and milking pail and stopped.
>> >"I'm sorry, sir.  I must have interrupted your morning milking.
>> >I apologize.  I'll be happy to finish the job for you.  It's the
>> >least I can do for spending the night in your loft."
>> >
>> >      Joe shook his head.  "It's all right.  I'll finish it
>> >myself," but the man's eyes told Joe he was genuinely sincere
>> >with his offer.  "It's all right, I said.  I'll finish it.
>> >There's no need,"
>> >
>> >      "I may be old, sir, but I can still milk a cow."
>> >
>> >      Joe shook his head again.  "You need to get going.  My barn,
>> >well, my whole farm, is watched."
>> >
>> >      "Yes," was the single word reply from the elderly man and he
>> >started walking again.
>> >
>> >      Once they had made it on to the dirt lane, Joe continued
>> >holding on to the man's left elbow.  Unstable wasn't the word.
>> >The man could hardly walk even with the use of his cane.
>> >
>> >      When they were about a hundred feet passed the house, the
>> >man stopped.  "What is it?" Joe said.  "I suppose you want some
>> >food or something?"
>> >
>> >      The man turned and said, "No, sir.  How far is it into town
>> >from here?"
>> >
>> >      "Over 50 miles," Joe replied.
>> >
>> >      "Thank you, sir.  I can make it from here.  He turned and
>> >began walking away alone.
>> >
>> >      Joe watched as the man slowly moved away down the lane with
>> >his worn Bible under one arm which Joe had handed him.  When he
>> >was about 20 feet away, Joe felt something.  He heard it,
>> >actually, in his head.  That had never happened to him before and
>> >he shook his head to clear it.  He heard it again but this time
>> >it was louder.  Joe quickly looked around but saw no one.
>> >Looking back at the old man slowly making his way with his cane,
>> >Joe called out.  "Stop."
>> >
>> >      The old man obeyed and slowly turned.
>> >
>> >      Joe didn't move but just stared at him.  "You'll never make
>> >it to town on your own."
>> >
>> >      "I can make it, sir.  I've made it this far so I can make it
>> >the rest of the way."
>> >
>> >      "Where did you come from?" Joe asked softly.
>> >
>> >      "I came from one of the camps in western Kansas."
>> >
>> >      "Western Kansas?" Joe spluttered.  "That's a thousand miles
>> >from here.  That's impossible," he concluded with finality.
>> >
>> >      "It isn't impossible, sir," the old man smiled, "because I
>> >am hear.  A little worse for wear, I admit, but I am hear."
>> >
>> >      "Who are you?" Joe asked; puzzlement clearly in his voice
>> >and in his mind.  The man's eyes were unexplainable.
>> >
>> >      "My name is William Curtis.  Friends just call me Curt."
>> >
>> >      "What are you doing here?" Joe questioned.
>> >
>> >      "If I told you, sir, you wouldn't believe me."
>> >
>> >      "I don't get it," Joe said shaking his head.  "You shouldn't
>> >be here."
>> >
>> >      "You are correct, sir, so I'm leaving, as requested."  then
>> >the old man looked at his watch.
>> >
>> >      "Joe noticed it was no cheap watch either.
>> >
>> >      "In 6 minutes and 44 seconds, sir," the old man continued,
>> >"a low level orbiting government satellite which covers this part
>> >of the country will pass over head.  The satellite is one of the
>> >new Keyhole spy satellites, a KH666 models with The computer
>> >enhancement imagery, GSP location within a 2 foot grid, and the
>> >infrared detection.  It will recognize you, of  course, but it
>> >will recognize me, too, or at least will flag my image as an
>> >anomaly to this farm.  It won't take more than an hour before my
>> >image is matched.  authorities will come looking for me and they
>> >will start here.  I don't think you want that, sir."  Turning his
>> >head and looking down the main road, he turned back.  "I have
>> >enough time, with a minute or so to spare, if I make it to that
>> >abandon fruit and vegetable stand I see off yonder.  That way I
>> >can wait a couple of minutes to make certain the satellite has
>> >passed out of range before I continue my journey without being
>> >spotted.  I bid you a good day, sir, and thank you."  the old man
>> >turned and continued hobbling down the farm lane.  Joe noticed he
>> >tried to increase his pace.
>> >
>> >      "Hey, Mr. Curtis," Joe said loudly when the man was about 30
>> >yards away, "come back.  You won't make it in time.  The man kept
>> >walking as if he hadn't heard.  Joe ran to him, touch his elbow,
>> >and said, "Come on.  Let me help you.  Let's get to the house.
>> >We don't have much time."  the old man tried to protest but Joe
>> >refused to accept anything he said.
>> >
>> >      They stepped up together on the covered back porch and
>> >stopped.  The old man was breathing hard but he glanced at his
>> >watch quickly.  "30 seconds to spare.  Thank you Mr. Capps for
>> >your kindness."
>> >
>> >      "You're welcome," Joe said but then realized the man used
>> >his name.  "Wait a minute.  How do you know my name?"
>> >
>> >      "I am an acquaintance of one of your friends, Mr. Capps."
>> >
>> >      "My friends?  I don't have any friends any more." Joe said
>> >resolutely.
>> >
>> >
>> >      "John Calvin Richardson," the old man said casually, "is
>> >still one of your friends.
>> >
>> >
>> >      "John?" Joe said puzzled.  He's been gone for two years.
>> >His farm was about 10 miles down the road."
>> >
>> >      "Yes," the old man replied.  "You are correct.  He told me
>> >where your farm was and that is why you found me in your barn.  I
>> >only planned on staying the night and then quickly moving on."
>> >
>> >      After a moment of silence, Joe said, "Who are you, sir?"
>> >
>> >      The man smiled.  "Again, my friend.  If I told you, you
>> >wouldn't believe it."
>> >
>> >      "One thing is for sure, Mr. Curtis, you are staying here
>> >until you get rested up.  My wife, Sarah, will make sure you are
>> >well fed, you can take a hot bath, we'll find you some new
>> >clothes, and you are welcome to stay as long as you wish.  We are
>> >Christians, too, and out on the lane, I heard a voice in my head
>> >for the first time in my life.  It said you are a prophet.  I
>> >knew it was God speaking to me even though I've never heard his
>> >voice like that before.  So, are you a prophet, sir?"
>> >
>> >      The old man grinned.  "Old Jesus never gives up," and he
>> >laughed hoarsely.  "I don't know what I'd do without him.
>> >
>> >      In the house, Joe introduced his new friend to his wife.
>> >She led the old man to a kitchen table and got him some fresh hot
>> >coffee.
>> >
>> >      After he began sipping at the good coffee, she said, as she
>> >sat down across from him with her husband, "I had a dream last
>> >night Mr. Curtis."
>> >
>> >      "Please, Sarah.  Just call me Curt.  All my friends do"
>> >
>> >      "Ok," she smiled.  "Curt, I had a dream last night."
>> >
>> >      William waited.
>> >
>> >      "I think you know the interpretation."
>> >
>> >      "I do?" he smiled back.
>> >
>> >      "You do.  I dreamed a prophet came to our home today."
>> >
>> >      William laughed.  "There he goes again."
>> >
>> >      "Sir?" she said.
>> >
>> >      "I don't know what you believe, Sarah, but I am a prophet.
>> >Not by choice mind you, but then again, Jesus normally doesn't
>> >give His servants a choice in what they want to do.  Tell me more
>> >about your dream," he encouraged.
>> >
>> >      "There wasn't much to it," she said, after getting up and
>> >pouring two more cups of coffee for she and her husband and
>> >warming up the new comer's.  "I was sitting at this here kitchen
>> >table in my dream, my husband brought an older man in with a
>> >cane, and told me he found him sleeping in the barn.  In my
>> >dream, I saw a man in the barn holding a Bible."
>> >
>> >      "Don't say another word," Joe spoke.  "I forgot.  I've got
>> >to run out and milk those cows right now but I don't want to miss
>> >a single word.  You two just chit chat and I'll be back as soon
>> >as I can."
>> >
>> >      "Please, Joe," the prophet said, "allow me to assist you."
>> >
>> >      Joe shook his head.  Looking at his wife, Joe said, "You get
>> >him in the bathtub, put some new underwear and socks out for him,
>> >he might need help pulling his socks on, and put on some new
>> >overalls.  Get that pair with all those extra pockets I like so
>> >well.  He'll need them eventually.  I'll be right back," and with
>> >that, he was gone.
>> >
>> >      When he returned, his wife was cooking at the wood burning
>> >stove, Mr. Curtis was seated at the table drinking another cup of
>> >black coffee and reading his opened Bible, and Joe came in
>> >smelling like cows, according to his wife.
>> >
>> >      "Is that true, Mr. Curtis," Joe asked, "do I really smell
>> >like cows?"
>> >
>> >      The man looked up and smiled.  "It beats me, Joe.  I lost my
>> >sense of smell 20 years ago."
>> >
>> >      Joe noticed how different the man looked.  He didn't look as
>> >old as he thought at first.  Plus, after his bath, or shower he
>> >had taken, his thin face was clean and his hair, which was mostly
>> >white, and seriously thinning, all made him look much better.
>> >Joe said as much.
>> >
>> >      "thank you, Joe," he replied.  "I feel about the best I've
>> >felt in many weeks.  Your wife has been quite helpful.  That bath
>> >was like Heaven.  I feel rejuvenated and like a young man again."
>> >
>> >      "Those overalls look good on you, too," Joe laughed.
>> >
>> >      "I like them.  Never wore them in my life but I sure like
>> >them and having this many extra pockets is wonderful, too."
>> >
>> >      "Good, Mr. Curtis."
>> >
>> >      "Please, Joe.  I know I'm old but just call me Curt."
>> >
>> >
>> >      "Ok, Curt.  I'll try and remember to do just that.  I'm
>> >going to wash up first.  then I'll come and get some coffee and
>> >we can talk for awhile.  I want to hear more after what my wife
>> >said concerning her dream."
>> >
>> >      "That'll be fine, Joe.  I enjoy the conversation.
>> >
>> >      Moments later, Joe returned, poured a hot cup and sat across
>> >from the older man.
>> >
>> >      "About how old are you, Curt, if you don't mind me asking."
>> >
>> >      "I don't mind at all.  I'm 70 years old.  I was born in
>> >early 1952 in Iowa.  Never lived on a farm but my father preached
>> >in lots of farming communities that never could afford a full
>> >time pastor.  So most Sundays, we went with him and spent the
>> >afternoons on farms."
>> >
>> >      "Great," Joe responded.  "I thought you sort of look like a
>> >farmer," he said.  "So, you're about 70 years of age, sir?"
>> >
>> >      Curt nodded.
>> >
>> >      They drank more coffee in silence for a couple of minutes
>> >and then Joe said, Curt, what are you doing out hear?  I know you
>> >said I wouldn't believe it but after what my wife said about her
>> >dream, I have no choice but to believe what you say."
>> >
>> >      "Well, Joe, I'm heading for a FEMA camp in Montana.  At
>> >least, that's where the Lord told me to go."
>> >
>> >      "Boy, William," Joe said with amazement, "that's still a
>> >long piece from here."
>> >
>> >      "It surely is, Joe, but it won't take me that long."
>> >
>> >      "I don't understand," Joe said confused.
>> >
>> >      "It's hard to explain," he said, "but easy to understand.
>> >I'll explain later," Curt concluded.
>> >
>> >      "Ok," Joe replied but he didn't understand what the man was
>> >talking about.
>> >
>> >      "If you don't mind me saying so, Curt," Joe continued, "your
>> >eyes are the most unique color of blue I have ever seen."
>> >
>> >      Curt laughed.  everybody says that, Joe.  The truth is, I
>> >was totally blind nearly all my life.  Just before the one world
>> >government started to take over all over the planet, I
>> >experienced a miracle.  My eyes were artificial and one day, when
>> >I was praying, my artificial eyes fell out and I had brand new
>> >eyes.  My eyes were brown as a kid but I had prayed and asked God
>> >for blue eyes and this is what I got.  The Holy Spirit told me
>> >this color of blue has never been on earth before.  That is why
>> >they seem so unusual to you, I suspect."
>> >
>> >      The two men heard a crash and turned to look.  Sarah had
>> >dropped a pan on the way to the sink.  She turned and faced the
>> >two men.  "That was part of my dream last night.  I dreamed you'd
>> >have blue eyes and that you would tell that exact same story and
>> >a voice said that would be the way I would know that you had been
>> >sent from the Lord to us."
>> >
>> >      William smiled and made a move to get up and try and pick up
>> >her dropped pan.
>> >
>> >      "No, no," she said, "you stay right there, Mr. Curtis.  I
>> >can get it.
>> >
>> >      Joe finally closed his mouth.  "You are right.  that is hard
>> >to believe.  No wonder you didn't want to tell me."
>> >
>> >      "Joe, I cannot prove what I said but let me show you
>> >something."  From around his neck, William removed a chain with
>> >two objects dangling from the end.  He reached half way across
>> >the table and placed the necklace in front of Joe.  "Look at
>> >these, Joe."
>> >
>> >      Joe picked up the necklace and held it up.  His eyes
>> >widened.  "Well, I'll be," he explained with a hush.
>> >
>> >      His wife hurried over and stood next to her husband.  "It's
>> >true," she whispered and fell into a chair.
>> >
>> >      "these are your artificial eyes?" Joe questioned.
>> >
>> >      Curt nodded.
>> >
>> >      Joe handed them back.  After a moment to collect his
>> >thoughts, Joe said, "I think, Curt, you better tell us the rest
>> >of the story.  I have a feeling we need to know."
>>
>>
>> -- 
>> No virus found in this incoming message.
>> Checked by AVG Free Edition.
>> Version: 7.1.409 / Virus Database: 268.15.21/589 - Release Date: 12/15/06
>>