Excerpt from Chapter Eight One Thousand Years Genesage
One Thousand Years: Genesage
"You can call me Eben"
The man with a staff said walking up to him. He looked odd, not that anyone or anything
looked normal. When everyone and everyone looked strange, abnormal being the norm in
this case, who was to say what was odd or strange. Certainly not he, thought Thomas.
“If you think you have lost your mind. Let me reassure you. You have."
Eben said.
Thomas giggled.
He said that so matter of fact that as a matter of course Thomas accepted the statement
without forethought. Hearing him being told he had lost his mind did in fact reassure him. He
didn't sound like he was joking or kidding either. Still, he did say it like it was to be expected,
acceptable, normal. There is that dirty word again, thought Thomas, normal.
"You are crazy. This isn't even the beginning of your madness."
The man in the robe talked casually as though he were commenting on the weather having
nothing better to do than to reassure a crazy man he was crazy. This IS crazy thought Thomas
still not commenting yet. He was taking in the scene, setting, person, words, concluding reality
had take a flight over the cuckoos nest with he about to sing like a parakeet.
"Wait till you get a load of what we have in store for you. Then you will know how crazy you
are."
Laughing now he thought,
That was the sanest thing anyone had ever said to him.
In the last four years with all he had been through you would have to believe in insanity.
Nothing sane about what he had gone thru. No one sane could have done it or been there.
You had to have been insane to even think it was real, it couldn't have been.
Yet, here am I, he thought.
"Move over Stockholm syndrome we now have Tribulation Syndrome."
Thomas began to giggle again.
Where did that thought come from?
Of course!! I am insane.
Thomas poked the fire in the present again sending a flume of sparks upward. Looking back it
was funny now. Eben had known just how fragile he was. Almost over the edge of sanity. If
he had said anything else, or talked to him about religion, or God ,or anything at all, he would
have flipped out. It would have been the straw the broke the back of the man he thought he
had been. So what did Eben say?
Laughing Thomas thought of it now, he beat me to the punch, he called me what I thought I
was. Crazy. Now here he was sixty-nine
years later looking back remembering that faithful day. The day he recalled back then.
"Here drink this" …,
Eben had handed him a wineskin. He gave him a normal cup which apparently did run out.
"If it didn't run out we'd all be drunk"
Eben had said.
-Excerpt from Chapter Eight of One Thousand Years: Genesage
The man with a staff said walking up to him. He looked odd, not that anyone or anything
looked normal. When everyone and everyone looked strange, abnormal being the norm in
this case, who was to say what was odd or strange. Certainly not he, thought Thomas.
“If you think you have lost your mind. Let me reassure you. You have."
Eben said.
Thomas giggled.
He said that so matter of fact that as a matter of course Thomas accepted the statement
without forethought. Hearing him being told he had lost his mind did in fact reassure him. He
didn't sound like he was joking or kidding either. Still, he did say it like it was to be expected,
acceptable, normal. There is that dirty word again, thought Thomas, normal.
"You are crazy. This isn't even the beginning of your madness."
The man in the robe talked casually as though he were commenting on the weather having
nothing better to do than to reassure a crazy man he was crazy. This IS crazy thought Thomas
still not commenting yet. He was taking in the scene, setting, person, words, concluding reality
had take a flight over the cuckoos nest with he about to sing like a parakeet.
"Wait till you get a load of what we have in store for you. Then you will know how crazy you
are."
Laughing now he thought,
That was the sanest thing anyone had ever said to him.
In the last four years with all he had been through you would have to believe in insanity.
Nothing sane about what he had gone thru. No one sane could have done it or been there.
You had to have been insane to even think it was real, it couldn't have been.
Yet, here am I, he thought.
"Move over Stockholm syndrome we now have Tribulation Syndrome."
Thomas began to giggle again.
Where did that thought come from?
Of course!! I am insane.
Thomas poked the fire in the present again sending a flume of sparks upward. Looking back it
was funny now. Eben had known just how fragile he was. Almost over the edge of sanity. If
he had said anything else, or talked to him about religion, or God ,or anything at all, he would
have flipped out. It would have been the straw the broke the back of the man he thought he
had been. So what did Eben say?
Laughing Thomas thought of it now, he beat me to the punch, he called me what I thought I
was. Crazy. Now here he was sixty-nine
years later looking back remembering that faithful day. The day he recalled back then.
"Here drink this" …,
Eben had handed him a wineskin. He gave him a normal cup which apparently did run out.
"If it didn't run out we'd all be drunk"
Eben had said.
-Excerpt from Chapter Eight of One Thousand Years: Genesage
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