Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Upriver Transport, Part One

     It was a dark and stormy afternoon. Not the usual way a story begins. Not the usual story. Not a usual day, that late October day before the holiday. Holy day when spirits rise from graves to be remembered, to be honored with the remembrances of the living.
     The trees on the surrounding hills down to the banks of the Hudson shown like a rich-colored royal tapestry in the clear morning light. Blue skies and a moderate temperature inspired people to take to their boats and glide upriver to hike, to picnic, to relax in the fresh air of the Hudson Valley. This was the perfect start to a perfect late October day, the day before All Hallows Eve. Until, that is, everything changed.
     No one can say if something like what happened had ever happened before. No one survived to to tell. Well, no one but myself. Somehow I am able to testify to what happened, though to say I survived depends on how survived is defined.


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