reupholstered throat

My throat was really hurting. It hurt so bad I wanted to get it reupholstered. Can you do that?
Praise God its not hurting so bad. Maybe it will get all better. I hope so. That'd be great. Right now the main problem is coughing. Pray that I'll get over my cold.
I got a job today. One of Ele's snow blowing customers is going to have me mow his house down. Ahem. Excuse me. Mow his yard. I went there today and worked for about three hours. I had a pretty hard time. Me being sick and all. He doesn't have a very big yard, but it has lots of little shrubbery spots.
I found a paper that I had written when I first started The Children of Light. On it was written the goal I had had when I started the story. It was to have every person, place, and happening to relate to the Bible. I'm sorry to say: I haven't done that. Which brings me to my new conclusion, I need to have a major overhaul of the story. I would doubt anyone was following it real closely anyways. If you were, sorry. I will try to make some good short stories to replace it with.

Such as this one.


It was late. I had gone to a flooring expo class at the Furnishers wholesale headquarters. Basically it was an advertisement for their new products. The pizza was old. I had stayed longer to talk about the flooring tools. When I pay good money I expect good tools, not the trashy stuff… Idiot things. As I said, I stayed late talking with other contractors. None of them looked suspicious. Well, not overtly suspicious. As a rule, some of those old guys are always a little quirky. You know, the way they have plenty of pens, you can see them proudly displayed on their front pocket, but yet they just have to grab a handful of the free company pens from the container and stuff then in their bag with the other dozen free pamphlets and stuff they’ve discovered. Most of the guys I’d seen before, the new ones looked all right. Who knows.
I haven’t ever had very good luck at getting to places on time. I decided to take an old back road to escape traffic. It turned out a shortcut. I was glad for once. Not that the pen grabbers would have noticed if I was on time.
After the class I decided to take the road again. I don’t mind dirt roads that much, especially at night, the bumps keep me awake. I had my highs on, watching out for deer jumping out from the woods. Idiot things. Always jumping out from behind trees at you. It was going along just fine. Seems that’s when the worst always happens. Wouldn’t you know it, I suddenly got a flat. Idiot thing. I quickly pulled off to the side of the road. Leaned my head against the steering wheel. Just great. Here I am out on some country road in the dark and I’ve got to fix a flat. Sure I had the tools, but who really wants to fix a flat on a dark road beside black trees with crazy deer behind them watching you. I pushed the door open and heaved out onto the dirt road. I looked down the street for cars. Duh, of course there isn’t going to be any on this road at ten o’clock at night.
I tried to call my wife on the cell to tell her I’d be late. Out of service. Idiot things. Groaning as I lumbered around to the back of my pickup I opened the hatch.
“Need help Bill Owen?”
I wheeled around, somewhere a ways behind me someone had called my name.
“What?” I asked questioningly. Looking around.
There was a pause.
“Need help Bill Owen?” He said in the same tone as before.
“Where are you?” I said, straining to see in the darkness.
Another pause.
“Need help Bill Owen?” He repeated.
“Not really.” I answered, taking a step towards the voice. “Who are you?”
“Need help Bill Owen?”
I put my hand’s on my hips feeling for the mace canister in my pocket. “Look, I don’t know who you are, bu…”
“Need help Bill Owen?” he interrupted.
“No I don’t need help. You can jolly well stop asking me.”
“Need help Bill Owen?”
That was it. This guy was really, I mean really, getting on my nerves. I carefully pulled the mace out of my pocket and started slowly walking towards him. My eyes were getting accustom to the darkness. I looked around for a man, any man would do right now. Every once in a while he would ask me if I needed help.
He was about to be the one needing help. And it wouldn’t be his car either.
I was getting closer to him. His voice was pretty loud now. Where was he hiding anyway? It didn’t sound like he was in the trees, they were to far away. He must be hiding in the tall grass in the ditch.
This is where it got spooky. He couldn’t be that far away. It sounded like I was right next to him. He’d probably jump out any minute. Let’s just hope he wasn’t armed. But chances are if he was smart enough to know my name he would know some other things too.
Where is he? How could he possibly hide this good while still talking?
His voice seemed now seemed to be below me. I got down on my hands and knees searching through the grass. This was as crazy as all.
I touched it before I saw it. There in the grass was a tape recorder. I picked it up. Just a simple endless loop tape recorder.
“Need help Bill Owen?”… “Need help Bill Owen?”…”Need help Bill Owen?”
This was getting really weird and that voice was starting to sound sinister. How did it know my name? The flat tire. Of course. Exactly what I needed, something to totally complicate my simple life. Whoever did this for whatever reason probably wouldn’t stop here.
Just a simple endless loop tape recorder.
Idiot things.

I will soon try to get another story out. The next one I'm working on is pretty good. Well I think so.
God Bless You All.