[b]The sky was lit with the flaming colors of an early morning sunrise. The smell of freshly brewed coffe filled the kitchen signaling another day. As I sipped my coffee I watched as the sun rised over the horizon, its' rays piercing a mobile of broken stained glass that hung on the edge of the roof just over the deck. Its' colors danced across my skin and the old wood floor, while the smell of early morning dew weeped passed the opened window.
These were the moments that I alway looked forward to. Moments of peace, moments of happines, moments that you would want to cherish for times to come . . . or at least that's how it was before he came.
There sitting beside the opened window was a small card, a business card. The card was crisp white with hunter green and midnight blue lettering printed on it. It read Guy Ozara and beside it was his companys' logo. Their logo was simple just an O and C connected in a celtic way with a blue oak leaf. I believe he called it the Ozara Company, a family business he said.
I didn't care for the man nor did I care who he was, it was what he wanted that left me speechless.
Here was a 50 year old man, hair as white as snow, wearing suits that were more expensive them my truck asking to buy my land my home. He didn't give me a reason nor an explaination why, all he said was he'd be taking a large burden off my shoulders giving me the freedom I truely deserved.
Without another word he handed me his card and told me to call him if I ever changed my mind. It had been five weeks now since his last sighting and I think my decision is the same as before.
Heck No!
It didn't make any sense nor did I know why I kept the dang thing. Was it because I was having second thoughts about my decision?
After finishing my coffee I placed the mug in the sink and took the small card in hand. Walking towards the door I simply ripped the card in two and threw it into the trash before grabbing my coat and heading out the door.
Nothing but the sound of my boots beating against the loose gravel filled the silence that the morning broght. I couldn't stop thinking about that man, about how many times he had visited pitching the same crap everytime he came around.
He would visit once every few weeks but soon his visits escalated to three times a week. Along with the visits his attitude escalated, he became angery threats constantly poured from his mouth scaring me to near insanity. The five weeks I had spoke to earlier was the longest he had stayed away. So many of those days I've lived in fear, looking ove my shoulder every second thinking he would be there.
Suddenly a scream ripped me from my subconcious and back into reality. What stood before me would of made any dog lover cringe.
There standign before me was a scrawiny, fleas bitten calico cat. It's multi-colored fur stood on end as it beared its' fangs and hissed. Nothing but annoyance struck my as I watched the cat swat its paws in my direction, its' claws soudlessly slicing the air.
"Shoo," I said "Get out of here"
Kicking gravel I gave it my own version of the cats' hss. Within seconds the cat bolted across the yard, past the worn splintering fence into the pastor infested with weeds and unkept grass. Without another thought I began my journey once more finding myself infron t of an aged barn door. It's worn surface and peeling paint showing its' years of use and collected memories.[/b]
