NJ71

NJ 71070805

July 8 2005 (Friday)

I know I know. It's been almost two weeks since I wrote an entry. Life's been...busy.

We got the new water heater. It was a bitch putting it in, but we finally got it. The previous tenants had
apparently used some sort of sealing compound on the pipes that was never meant to be released. Ouchies!
We almost broke the connecting pipe. Fleur had a couple of her contractor friends come by with their large
tools *giggle* and loosen the stubborn pipe. Johnathon took it from there, though the two guys were more
than happy to assist if we'd needed it. Cute, too. *grin*

Things were tough last week. The insurance company was trying to squirm out of our claim for some reason. I
was on the phone for literally hours until Fleur took over and calmly called one of her attorney friends. He too
stopped by, asked me a few questions and then stopped by the Insurance company. He couldn't have been
there twenty minutes before they were calling me, apologizing profusely for the "mix up."

I knew there was a reason I kept that foxy woman around. *grin*

The whole thing had us all very stressed out. Johnathon can't work yet. He still tires easily. More easily than
he wants to admit. It makes him a bear some days. But we've not lost our tempers at one another. We
understand. We just look at each other and then we remember.

We love each other.

One day when things were getting tense last week Fleur waltzed through the room holding something in her
hands that I couldn't see but she blew across it, grinning her delightful impish teasing smile in between pursing
her lips and blowing.

The fragrance of fresh honey wafted across to both Johnathon and I.

We began to laugh.

I chuckled even more when she dropped a drawing pad on the low table in front of me, a well groomed
eyebrow raised at me. "Ah think it's time ya started drawin' some of those flowers we been seein.' Add 'em to
the collection you started while Johnathon was takin' that long damn nap."

I looked at the new drawing pad a long moment. She'd tossed a rectangular leather pouch onto it. I opened it
and found some really nice drawing tools inside it.

"Ya got no excuse now, hon. Time ta go to work."

Time to go to work.

A shiver went through me. It almost left me gasping. I was suddenly confused and my mind was reaching
outward. The way it use to do. It had been so long I'd almost forgotten that feeling.

The feeling of moving without movement.

The world around me went dark as visions blew through me and I went to my knees.

It had been so long. Since before Johanthon...

He caught me as I sunk to the ground and as his fingers contacted with my skin his breath drew in sharply.
His world grew dark as well and he held me, looking around at the visions that flew at me. We sat in another
place, our world laying, like some fragile veil on top of the one we sat frozen within, watching that world move
around us.

I gasped at what I saw. It had to be a bar...a tavern of some kind. My mind felt all fuzzy. It was familiar and
yet I could not remember.

I felt an incredible wash of nostalgia flow over me. I knew this place. I knew these...people! And yet there was
not one human in the bunch!

My attention was drawn by sudden movement and a loud voice. "Shikes! Damn, again!" as a great stocky
war horse tossed a handful of cards from his three fingered hand onto a table top. He was--exquisite.

And I recognized him. My world spun.

Years. So many years ago.

The...the warhorse...the one...

...the costume...

...that Johnathon had worn.

Oh my god.

My head spun around to try and see more. With that movement I watched heads lift and turn, in slow motion,
becoming transparent, as they turned in my direction.

The eyes on the great equine widened as he stood suddenly, knocking his chair over, almost tossing it aside.

"She's here!" he yelled as he moved toward me. God, as if through molasses. His eyes flashing.

Not angry.

Desperate!

Beside him, trying to shove him out of the way was a short tawny femme with a cloud of bright red mane, her
bosom decrying the fact that she held a sword expertly in one of her gloved hands. Her green eyes flashed as
she moved with the male equine toward us, both of them growing more transparent with each god-awful slow
step, until they faded completely, along with everything else.

We sat there, Johnathon and I, in each others arms, tears flowing down our faces.

It was only then that I realized Fleur hand her hands on my shoulders and she was staring, wide eyed. She
looked down at me, her eyes still wide. "I...saw..."

Tears dripped down her cheeks.