We are gathered here today to celebrate our new coalition. We would like to welcome the representatives from their various lands and levels-those from inner earth and outer earth. We especially welcome dwarves, elves, humans, minions, and all the citizens of their regions. With multitudes of individuals represented, we strive to achieve a common purpose to reach global and individual prosperity and peace among all those who are represented here.

Therefore, we are establishing commissions comprised of representatives from every region. We will have one unit in each of the five international areas. Each unit will consist of two representatives from each of the five regions. In effect, we will have five committees with 10 members, and the team leader will not be from that geographical location.

The ultimate challenge is to develop a plan to capitalize on strengths and form a system of cooperation that reaches the needs of every individual as well as develop the economic growth of each region. Then, all the groups will converge here, in the capital, to share their proposals and finalize a constitution that is acceptable to all vested parties.

What could possibly go wrong?

My across-the-street neighbor killed someone. This is my evidence.

She brought home a new trash can, a rake, and a shovel. One day, she left the house with a small suitcase and came back with a huge crate. Normally, she would open her drapes when she was home. Now, her drapes are closed all day every day. On another day, I heard a noise like a power saw. So, I know she cut him or her up and hid the body.

Now, I need to convince someone else. But, I need proof. I couldn't-or wouldn't go into her house. Surely, there would be proof outside. I wait until she leaves for work, get my cell phone, and set out to get my proof.

I nonchalantly walk across the street and wander toward the house. As I walk around the garage, I pass the trash can and recycle bin. There is dirt around the can. Ah-ha! I took a picture with my phone. That's one. Then, I notice  drag marks from the bins to the backyard. I took a picture. That's two. I follow the drag marks all the way across the yard. Ah-ha! The marks lead to the new trash bin I had seen her bring home. The rake and shovel are nearby leaning on the house. Excitement and anxiety are rising. My heart is pounding. Wow! Moment of truth. I walk over. Do I really want to lift the lid?  I take a deep breath, stretch out my hand, and tilt my head to take a peek. I carefully continue to open the lid until I see-weeds. I whip my head around to look at the rest of the yard and see a newly planted garden complete with a wooden border, and beside it a crate with other garden tools in it. I feel like an idiot. This never happened.

_This is a great day to walk to River Park,_thought Rhonda as she put on her socks and walking shoes. She packed a lunch of a ham sandwich, a banana, and a couple bottles of water. She put everything in her string bag and walked out the door.

Arriving at the park about 10 minutes later, she saw the usual sights--families picnicking along the shore, kids and grown-ups playing soccer, football, or tag. Rhonda followed the path along the river enjoying the ducks, geese, and other waterfowl and greeting people as she passed them.

She loved being outdoors in the fresh air and sunshine. A bird caught her eye as it landed on the river.  She heard rustling in the bushes behind her. She turned and noticed the bridge. Then she saw a tattered man sitting on the bridge eating dirty popcorn and scraps of bread. She pondered his presence and realized he was eating scraps of food that people had tossed to the birds. Her heart broke.

She said, "Do you mind if I sit with you?" The man looked startled, but then smiled and patted the deck next to him. Rhonda sat down and unpacked her lunch. She gave half her sandwich, half the banana, and the extra water to the man.

"My name's Rhonda. This is  one of my favorite places to spend the day. What's your name?"

"I'm Joey. Thanks for the lunch."

"I hope you don't mind me asking you a personal question, but how did you get here?"

"Do you mean here by the river, or here in these circumstances?

Both.

I got here today by walking. I live under the bridge by the freeway. Unfortunately, I have to scrounge for food occasionally. The homeless shelters aren't always available.

But, to answer your other question, my house burned down with my car in the garage with no insurance on either. I spent what little savings I had on buses and taxis to get to work. When I couldn't pay for transportation, I lost my job. I don't have family around to help me. So, now I'm looking for a job I can walk to. How about you? What's your story?

Any open door may lead to a love, a disaster, or fantastic exploration.

A closed door may lead to a conflict, security, loneliness, boredom, or protection.

A locked door may lead to change, defeat, destiny, opportunity, or resignation.

A broken door may lead to strength, perseverance, an achievement, or determination.

A door with a window may show a peek into the future, the dark, or contemplation.

A door without a knob may block a forbidden journey, a challenge, or consternation.

When I was young, in middle school, mood rings were the fad among girls. In case you don't know, mood rings had a stone that would change color depending on the temperature of your skin. The concept was that your mood would effect your skin temperature and that would change the color of the stone.

Anyway, I had a mood ring on my left, ring finger. We were working in shop class making lamps from kits. In case you don't know, shop class was the class where you learned  woodworking. As I was finishing up my lamp, somehow, I swiped my hand across a single live wire. Since my hand was moving quickly, I barely touch the wire. However, the ring touch the wire and sent a jolt through my arm. It wasn't serious, but I was startled, and the ring burned all the way around my finger. I ended up with a very dark scar on my fair, Irish skin.

During college, when I would go out with friends, guys would start talking to me and ask if I was married. Of course, people really don't look closely at their surroundings, and they would only have taken a glance at my hand and assume it was a ring. Then I would hold my hand in front of their face and get to tell the story of my scar. It was a great ice-breaker.

My Pinecone

The wind rushed through the trees like a tornado. The girl grabbed a tree so she didn't tumble through the pine forest. "That's odd," she thought. Winds don't usually blow in the forest like that. The girl loved being outdoors. Anywhere in nature would do-the beach, the mountains, or like today-the forest.

As the wind ceased, she let go of the tree. She glanced around to see what damage had been done. She didn't notice anything except a huge pinecone on the ground. Even taking into consideration its size, it looked strange. Evidently, it hadn't matured, yet since it was still green. But, it also had a bluish tint, and the scales seemed to be fused in a way that you couldn't peel them apart. The bottom was sort of flat, so it was standing on end like an egg. She surveyed the treetops to see if there were any similar pinecones above her. However, this appeared to be the only one.

The girl hesitantly picked it up to examine it. It felt warm, and not only were the scales fused, the covering was one solid piece. Since the sun was setting, she took the pinecone home for a closer look.

Once she got home, she went in the garage and tried to peel the scales with a knife, then with a hammer and chisel. Finally, she just hit it with the hammer. Sparks flew, and the object skittered across the room. She picked it up. It was getting hotter. She set it on the table and left it alone while she decided what to do next while she went to supper.

After she ate, she returned to the garage. The pinecone-or whatever it was had a crack down the side and was vibrating. She grabbed some safety goggles from the shelf, back up, and hid behind a cabinet door. The object vibrated wildly which increased in intensity. All of a sudden-BOOM! The shell blew off. "Whoa!" she exclaimed. When the smoke settled, the girl moved slowly toward the table. She could not believe what she saw-an adorable little dragon. She picked it up and ran into the house yelling, "Mom, look what I followed me home. Can I keep him?"

My brother, William, passed away in the summer when I was 12 years old. He was 18. Two days after the funeral, my parents cleaned his room, put everything in its proper place, and shut the door. They didn't lock it; they just shut it. Nothing was said about staying out of his room. However, none of us went in there again. It was like a grave-a sanctuary for the memories my brother.

I missed him terribly and sobbed when I thought of him which was often that first year. Just passing by his bedroom door brought tears to my eyes. The closed door made it feel as though I was waiting for him to come home from school or work.

I could imagine his car magazines, surfing paraphernalia, and clothes thrown around the room and on the unmade bed. Mom was always yelling, "Clean up your room before you go out." Now, we all wish the mess was still there.

After the one-year anniversary of his passing, my heart had healed to the point where I began to want to visit him-not like visiting the dead. But like, being able to reminisce.

We had suffered through all the firsts-first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, all the family birthdays and holidays for the year. Now, I was ready to take a glimpse of our life together.

So, one day when my parents were at work, I gently pushed opened the door. I just stood there and surveyed the room. In front of me was the bed covered with its dark blue comforter. On the right, blue and brown plaid drapes were closed across the window. On the left, behind the door, was his desk on which were his computer and a stack of car magazines. His surfing magazines were on his left night table. I turned right and walked to the dresser. There was a tray with a few pieces of jewelry-a puka bead necklace, a chain with a surfboard charm, and his class ring-Class of 2002. I opened a drawer. There were his favorite ratty, red t-shirt and baggy, plaid shorts.

I closed the drawer, turned around, walked to the closet, and opened the door. He didn't have very many clothes hanging. There were a couple of dress shirts and pants. The most important thing stored here was his surfboard. He loved surfing. Even though his grades weren't so hot, he would take the heat and often go surfing after school since we were near the beach on Florida's east coast.

At this point, I sat on the end of the bed and cried. When I calmed down, I headed to the door. As I closed it I thought, "No, I'm going to leave it open." Then I had another thought. I walked to the closet, dragged out the surfboard, and laid it across the bed.

Then I walked out of the room thinking it's time we brought William back. It's time we let our memories of him seep out and grow healthy.

I dreamed a nightmare that captured my soul. Not understanding, it burned as coal.

Awakened, distressed, began to ponder, What had become of this place and yonder?

The angels manifest goodness and kind, The demons ranted from out of their minds.

People, all people, were crazed and confused, Angels were hated and devils amused.

The people captured, the demons had won. Their minds were twisted, and they were undone

The multitudes wailed, and millions did sing; Good was now evil, and badness was king.

Men and women are lost, the die has been cast; Has Satan won the battle at last?

(Romans 10:13 - Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord Jesus will be saved.)

Greetings from the future—not a joke.

So, we developed a this device that allows us to communicate over time, but not travel over time. However, I think that may change in the next 50 years. You know how one discovery can lead to another?

Anyway, it is the year 2124. I received the device I’m using as a Christmas gift. I just picked a random connection and found you. We have studied your era in our education programs. I wonder how much we learned about you is true. You know, like George Orwell’s 1984 described how the government changed words and facts to get you to fall into line. Anyway, I hope that’s not true, and you were intelligent enough to discover things for yourself and not leave your decisions to the media’s propaganda.

You’re probably curious about how we have progressed or regressed in 100 years. First, climate change turned out not to be a thing. The earth changes constantly as it always has, and it turns out mankind did not have much effect on temperature after all. The change was because the interior of the planet just followed its natural cycles. A bigger problem for us was the oceans. Plastics in the water were a huge issue. We eventually solved the problem by finding better ways to recycle plastics.

A second thing that is different is our educational system. I think you primarily went to buildings through your high schools years. Our schooling is all in the air. We call it _in air. _It is similar to your Internet and Cloud. The advantage is we have access to a tremendous amount of knowledge. But again, I’m not sure how much is true. For example did you really elect a president simply because she, and her party, wanted a black female even though she didn’t understand economics or government policy, and she couldn’t respond to questions without a teleprompter?

That brings me to the disadvantages. One disadvantage is weeding through information to discern fact from fiction. How are we supposed to know if what the media and government are telling us is true? We are greatly discouraged from investigating things we don’t understand. You often hear, Ju_st trust us_, from the ones in control.

The second disadvantage is that there is no interaction among the students during our educational hours which are from sunrise to sunset. So, most of our social contacts are _in air. _However, there are times on the weekends when we get together.

I’m sure there are many more differences in our eras. However, people are people no matter what era. I wish there was a way for you to contact me, but I think this device is omnidirectional at this time. Get it? _At this time? _ LOL