Day Eight Hundred Sixty #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We did not make any progress towards Damascus today. We encamped on the outskirts of a larger town last night – the capital for this district, as we soon discovered. For we decided to begin the day’s journey by strolling through rather than around it.

The telltale posters of Stan hung everywhere with extra added touches of adornment.

We were no sooner in its central square than we were surrounded by a convergence of celebratory citizens that clogged all the exits.

We were a captive audience.

When the officials spoke we learned that they were collected to celebrate the anniversary of the world government coming to their rescue in the drought.

When it broke up, the day was too far gone.


Twenty Years


(I wrote this for my wife twenty two years ago this month).

Twenty Years
You and me
I wonder how
The next twenty
Will be
Full of splendor
Just like the past
Full of content
That will last and last
Full of hope
For each new day
Full of joy
That won’t go away
All from the Lord
The great Giver of Life
The One who gave me
My beautiful wife.

(Perhaps I will share the new one after a similar time has passed).