posted on Sep, 1 2020 @ 10:05 AM
The best approximation for time placement would put this incident at when I was age 6. Here is the scene.
The house that I grew up in had just such a crawl space access in the back yard. I was sitting on the concrete side, facing the house, with my legs
dangled down in the hole. I was watching my bare feet as I bounced by heals off the concrete.
There was a temporary fire pit about 10 feet behind me, made up of fire bricks, the kind that often line the inside of fireplaces for their ability to
withstand heat.
I don't know why Clear Morning, a boy of about 14, was in the back yard. He picked up one of the fire bricks and started walking toward me. The reason
I knew this was because at that moment I could see through his eyes, as he moved up behind me. Before I saw his shadow in the bottom of the hole, I
also saw him from behind. I was seeing from three points of view at the same time. My feet and his shadow, the brick being raised as if by myself, and
a view of him as if by someone behind him watching his actions.
I don't remember anything after that. I may have fallen asleep or something.
For years I listened to conversations between my parents, older siblings, any one talking, for any mention of "the time Clear Morning hit ...". But it
was never mentioned, as if such a thing never happened.
Sometimes I run my hand over this one particular scar on my head and wonder why the Morning family moved out of town so precipitously.
edit on 1-9-2020 by pthena because: (no reason given)
edit on 1-9-2020 by pthena because: (no reason given)