Through the Mist of Memory

All the numinous events hidden safely from ridicule, criticism, and disbelief bubbled up from deep in my heart when my childhood friend died in 1985. The voices, visions, sighting, and apparitions throughout my life clamored acknowledgement. Gossamer threads anchored to my life fabric at various points in my life told vignettes of mysteries about which I wondered.

After he started school, he changed from a happy little boy to one depressed and afraid. Though I asked, he would not tell me wha...