“How did you know Zelensky?” I had asked Luda when I first met her at her home in Mariople.
“He grew up next door. When my nephews visit, they played. They became very good friends. Those boys have been together through many things and now war. Do you know his name means ‘famous leader?'”
No I didnt not know the meaning of his name, but it fit. These were the few things I knew about Volodymyr Zelensky who was elected President of Ukraine in 2019:
Volodymyr was born in 1978. Ukrainian was then part of the Soviet Union. After the fall of communism, Zelenskyy co-founded a successful comedy troupe and studied law.
Volodymyr Zelensky had been in the position of President of Ukraine for a few years when Russia attacked on Feb 24. Zelensky grew up under the iron fist of Mother Russia and had no desire to see his country torn apart. once again.
In his nightly address to the nation, we heard Zelenskyy say:
Thanks to the courage, wisdom of our defenders, thanks to the courage of all Ukrainian men, all Ukrainian women our state is a real symbol of struggle for freedom. Everyone in the world – and even those who do not openly support us – agree that it is in Ukraine that the fate of Europe, the fate of global security, the fate of the democratic system is being decided. And above all, it is being decided what life in the center and east of our continent will be like and whether there will be life at all.
(excerpt of speech on April 26)
“Zelensky is meeting with the UN and EU as we were having this conversation. We hope for help and weapons.” Dmitre relayed to us.
“We are glad that you, your brother and the President are safe.” My husband said. “What can we do now to help?”
“I know the President would tell you to get into safety. Your wife is still recovering. “
“You are asking us to go into hiding while there is …”
“Yes, You must. “
“But Dmitre what about????” I was near tears.
“There is still my family. They are in danger.”
“Yes, they are in need of protection.” My husband said soberly not knowing the situation on the other side of the Portal.
“You watch out for them and get well. Maybe in several weeks we will talk.”
We were both weary as we said “Goodbye” to everyone at the refugee center / church/ kitchen/ hospital. I couldn’t think about tomorrow for each of them.
Two of Yevhen’s men half carried me to The Passage. They had returned to tell us that Yevhen had positioned the men to defend Mariople’s people.
The men looked like tired boys to me at that moment.
As we got to the third floor, I knew we were on our own.
“Be careful. This Uri is your enemy.”
My husband checked his pistol for the twentieth time and checked the strap to the rifle on his shoulder.
“We will see you soon.” I gripped their hands not wanting to let go. “Buvaite zdorovi”
They waved as they turned the corner of the hallway on the third floor of the Passage Hotel.
I have never hated goodbyes more than now…
So we say Buvaite zdorovi! (Ukrainian for Be Well / Be healthy) to each of you wonderful A to Z bloggers.
So sorry to leave you at a Time Portal with a War in Ukraine in 2022.
And so dear A to Z friends and Blogging faithfuls we are wrapping this part of “The Passage – A War Time Portal.” We (my husband who journeys with me) and myself will continue to write about people in the war and the world of the Portal. There is another element that we hinted at which is where we will go next.
“The Passage: Resistance in Time.”
“We are potentially entering a portal with a KGB operative. I need to man up.” I knew not to grab the gun from my husband, so I pleaded with my eyes.
The hour hand finally clicked to 3.
“Let’s go then.” My husband handed me the rifle.
We walked forward into 1991 uncertain of what we would face and who would greet us…
Thank you to the A to Z community and each blogger that joins in April.
This is the final letter for the A to Z challenge 2022. This fiction was originally written in 2007 in Odessa, Ukraine. I’ve tweeked it to arrive in 2022 but the elements of a multiaccess portal and a war (the original story had multiple wars) are original. The Passage that is central to this story is a real hotel built in 1880s.
“We go to Mariople today.” Yevhen spoke seriously to each of the men. “They try to send women and children to Russia.”
We had heard Russia was making promises of safe passage as long as those still in Mariople and other besieged cities went to Russia. How they would be treated there was questionable.
“This is when women and girls become slaves.” Olga shook her large wooden spoon.
“We will stop it.” One of the men who had shown his bravery so often, stood tall.
Olga had prepared a meal that would give the men strength. “Cheese and bread to last and snacks.” She held out my backpack that we had brought on the plane filled with snacks.
Before they left for Mariople, Maxsim ran back to tell us news.
“Navy turned away.” We all cheered knowing that today Odessa would not be overrun with Russian sailors.
Maxsim waved as he we back to his men.
“Buvaite” (goodbye) We all called out.
Olga then looked at me. “Today you must work.” She pulled me up and walked me to the kitchen.
I knew she was right. Tomorrow we were going to 1991. I needed to have some strength and resolve even if my head hurt.
I never could remember people’s names that came through our makeshift refugee center but this one young woman was so remarkable. Her name was Yana. The refugees told of this woman’s bravery. She had bribed some soldiers to get information before they left their city. This told them where it was unsafe to travel. Several times, she stole rifles off sleeping soldiers. We wondered if they were sleeping permanently. She had slit a man’s throat to protect one of the children.
“She’s a one-woman army.” My husband whispered.
We met with Yana and drew a map of the safest route to get to the border. We also drew a map of an alternate more difficult route. Before they left the church, we gave her a large canvas sack of bread and cheese.
“Its old but it might help.” My husband gave her a Kalashnikov.
She handed the rifle to her younger sister, Ruslana.
Olga smiled at the younger version of Yana. “her name means like a lion.” She smiled.
I wiped yet another tear for the bravery of the many young men and women who were fighting the Bear called Russia.
“Vlad how are we going to get across if you can’t remember?”
“Anatoliy told me years ago. You forget I am old man.” Vlad’s voice cracked.
“It’s easy. Let’s think about that.” My husband knew he had to battle the worry.
“Yes, we tried many configurations to get here when my wife was on this side. Anatoliy didn’t seem to know any more than we did.”
“Or he didn’t want too many to know.”
“Yes, that could be true. Let’s go to Passage. Maybe we can find something.”
“Olga, I am not sure when I will be back…”
“Your wife is our number one concern. Go do what you must do.” Olga pushed the men out the door.
As they walked, they were both deep in thought. My husband wondered about the man who kept a close eye on them. He had always been at The Passage.
“Vlad, I think the man watching us got through the Portal. He is always at the Passage. But the last few times no one.”
“But how???”
“If is the more worrisome.”
They both walked much faster to the Passage. My husband waved at the manager. He smiled back.
They went up the stairs to the third floor then ran down to the second floor and around to the short hallway. There was the diamond design on the carpeting.
“What time?”
“Too early.” Vlad grumbled.
“Let’s go back up and do it again but slow like we always do to not attract attention.”
They did the routine again with a calm they did not feel. When they stood on the pattern, Valeria came through.
“I did it. Oh, thank you Portal. Thank you. “The girl was out of breath.
She turned to the men and looked so worn as if she had been in 2022.
“There is too much to tell you. There is a man named Uri. He is ex KGB and he is trained in torture.”
“How did he get there?”
“We think when Vlad and the men passed over that he gained access before the Portal could close. There is no one there to protect us.”
“Where is the family?”
“They are in hiding in the place. He knows about them and has tried to get information from many of our guests. I pretended I was a housekeeper for The Passage so he thinks I’m a dumb girl.”
“What does he want? It can’t be the family there are too many other ways to get to our friends in 2022.”
“No, he talks about secret passageway. Something about Resistance.”
Vlad looked around like he knew something.
“We are glad you come. Can we get back?”
Vlad stuffed his Glock in his waist band and checked the knife in his boot. Then he handed Valeria his Kalashnikov. She checked the safety, slung the rifle over her shoulder and gave him a thumbs up.
“We need to go back to third floor,” she pointed. “Then back at three. Two people at three don’t you remember, Vlad? Also look at your feet. Left foot on the diamond the other has to be sideways on the circle.” She whispered to Vlad and my husband. “Now let’s go.”
They stood at the clock trying to look unnoticeable. But no one in the hotel cared.
“Vlad will go with me; you must wait two days then come with your wife. We should be safe by then. Bring your gun in case.”
“Tell men to keep rotation to Mariople. Yevhen in charge.”
I nodded Yevhen was respected by all the men and a good leader.
“Go to your room and get your things out. In case…” Valeria pointed for me to go.
“We will win…” Vlad smiled.
My husband thought about the KGB guy.
We don’t need a war on both sides of the Portal. My husband mumbled at the clock as he walked by.
Thank you to the A to Z community and each blogger that joins in April.
Please take a visit to my friend’s Blog Writer of Wrong and his A to Z
This on-going story for A to Z challenge 2022 was originally written in 2007 in Odessa, Ukraine. I’ve tweeked it to arrive in 2022 but the elements of a multiaccess portal and a war (the original story had multiple wars) are original. The Passage that is central to this story is a real hotel built in 1880s. She’s seen alot of history stomp through her doors and I could feel the past while I lived there. I hope you see the tenacity of the Ukrainian people through this attempt to honor their bravery. The story about the shot up car and the people is one of many stories we got from friends helping people escape Mariople.
“Are you okay?” My husband shook my body. ‘Honey, are you okay?” He said louder. “Wake up!!!”
When I didn’t respond, he picked me up. For a moment he had no idea what to do. Sirens were going off and bombs were falling. “What do I do? He screamed.
He saw a dim light that was over the door of the church. He ran there praying that the bombs would fall somewhere else.
“Are there any medical people?” He said with a panic that none of our team had ever seen.
Olga grabbed his hand and without a word directed him to a quiet area where there was a cot.
“We need to set her down in quiet and not too much light.” Our friend who had medical training told me. “Her vitals are strong. I think she has a concussion and hopefully will revive.”
Unfortunately, hospitals were one of the most dangerous places to go.
“We will watch her round clock.”
Everyone took turns watching me. My husband was always there; sometimes he collapsed in absolute fatigue.
“When I spoke to your wife, she squeezed my hand. I was able to determine she has bad headache. I told her rest. I put cold cloth on head. She will recover.” Olga said with that Ukrainian confidence we both appreciated.
“I’m relieved that she will get better. But I worry.” My husband looked at me then held my hand. “Has Vlad been around?”
“He took rotation in Mariople. Should be back tomorrow.”
“As soon as he returns, I need to speak with him. It is important.”
“Yes, everything these days is.” Olga sighed.
I opened my eyes and realized the light was too bright but I could speak a little.
Since I was improving, my husband took some time to communicate with Dmitre. Dmitre knew we were out of contact with his family.
“Things hold. Zelensky continues to know when to hide when there is an assassination attempt. There have been hundreds.”
“What about you?”
“Only dozens.” Dmitre chuckled. “We need Mariople and Odessa to stay strong. the ships outside of Odessa cannot make anchor. Pray the storms continue.”
“ I will tell the team your news. We pray constantly these days,”
“The East depends on it…” My husband knew he meant all of Ukraine.
Vlad finally returned from Mariople.
“That does not sound too good.” Vlad’s frowns crinkled over weather worn wrinkles.
“Valeria sounded like you would know…”
“The fact that the Portal allowed you to speak through it means there is something not right.” He clenched his bruised and bandaged hands. “I need to remember the formula that the professor taught me. The professor assured me it was easy.”
“What is it then?” My husband was overwhelmed with worry.
“I don’t remember.” Vlad looked blankly into my husband’s eyes.
Thank you to the A to Z community and each blogger that joins in April.
This on-going story for A to Z challenge 2022 was originally written in 2007 in Odessa, Ukraine. I’ve tweeked it to arrive in 2022 but the elements of a multiaccess portal and a war (the original story had multiple wars) are original. The Passage that is central to this story is a real hotel built in 1880s. She’s seen alot of history stomp through her doors and I could feel the past while I lived there. I hope you see the tenacity of the Ukrainian people through this attempt to honor their bravery. The story about the shot up car and the people is one of many stories we got from friends helping people escape Mariople.
If The Portal could have spoken to the couple trying to enter, it would have said “we are in trouble and we need Vlad.”
One man had patiently watched for years as people moved quietly through the Passage. There were several passageways; few knew all of them.
One passageway was the Passage Hotel’s passage that was intentional built through the structure. It had been storehouses, military barracks, and a beautiful shopping area with cafes during times when there weren’t soldiers stomping through Odessa.
Then there was the Portal. Uri only knew about the one side from observation. He had watched enough people come across to know that it was a time portal.
The last Passage was the reason he had been stationed at this location years ago. This Passage was where resistance leaders from earlier wars hid and met and stored weapons. Some knew it existed but no one could find the access points. Was The Portal and the Passage some- how connected?
Uri knew he had to get through the time portal to find out. He thought he knew the combination; he never was able to gain access. But then the day came when bombs were falling. He was fortunate to have been in the hallway when dozens of Vlad’s men were coming though. Just like any door he knew there was an opening even if you could not see it.
He watched and as the last two men came through, he squeezed in the other direction.
Equipped with palm sized scanners, camera and audio recorders, Uri knew he had to stay out of sight. What he would not learn till later was all the Portal’s protection military and otherwise had just passed into 2022. What remained was a scientist from another century, women, children and a few old men. But he would find that out over the days to come.
He knew he had to establish himself as a guest of the hotel. He carried gold and silver with him that he knew could be turned into currency for any time period.
Uri was patient and methodical; he ascertained that there were guests in 1991 who had no idea there was a Time Portal in their hotel. He also learned that there was an entire wing that was reserved for Time Portal “passengers.”
Uri did not engage. He watched. The loud one named Luda he knew would give him information and it was probably as easy as a conversation over chai.
His primary purpose was to find the Resistance headquarters so he could destroy it.
*
I stood at the Portal point for another minute.
“Valeria?” I know you are there. “What do you need?”
We both heard it, “Vlad!”
“Okay.” I said to an open space in a hotel hallway.
“This time is locked. Try another entry time. Vlad knows.”
We tried to leave the hotel not looking confused.
“Something has to be wrong,” we both said at the same time.
“Hopefully, Vlad has the solution,” my husband said as a bomb dropped across the street…
Thank you to the A to Z community and each blogger that joins in April.
This on-going story for A to Z challenge 2022 was originally written in 2007 in Odessa, Ukraine. I’ve tweeked it to arrive in 2022 but the elements of a multiaccess portal and a war (the original story had multiple wars) are original. The Passage that is central to this story is a real hotel built in 1880s. She’s seen alot of history stomp through her doors and I could feel the past while I lived there. I hope you see the tenacity of the Ukrainian people through this attempt to honor their bravery. There is always a sense that someone is watching you. Uri (a spy) is doing his job well..
There were street children in a world called Odessa. Each day there was a mother who flipped a coin:
Her raspy words “drugs or my child? “
Too often the drug addiction won and another child was left as refuse on a moon- lit sidewalk.
With no reform programs for the mothers or safe housing for the children, the children learned to survive in the sewers and under piles of debris .
Young men and women would go between the shadows long after curfew looking for children to help.
They carried satchels filled with sandwiches, blankets or coats.
This team learned to fit in with the homeless that frequented the night. It was the only way to avoid the mafia thugs.
“Wear your athletic shoes and be prepared for anything.” One of the team told me. “Always look for a way out. If we get separated, do not speak to anyone and wait for me to find you. You are very valuable to Mafia.”
There was still a golden glow in the sky when I met a boy of about 12 and his sister who was probably 9. She would only come part way out of the sewer pipe as I offered her a sandwich and a soft drink.
“She is scared.” The brother said.
We left them with an extra sandwich to share for later.
“They’ve only been on the street for a week or two. She won’t last.”
“you mean she will die?”
“No men will catch her and make her…”
“She’s a little girl!”
I wanted to take these children back home with me but there was no way to do that.
I met many youth that night. They were all males except that one little girl.
“My sistra is gone…” I felt the echo of so much loss.
Benjamin was the favorite of many on the street kid team. He was like a wild animal who wanted to be tame. He wanted love not a cage.
“Why can’t he talk?” I asked one of the team
“Benny is a smart boy and he learned fast from the older boys how to steal. Sadly they steal over-the counter drugs and make awful home brewed stuff. The drugs make them lethargic but the key thing is they start killing the brain cells. The Mafia is less interested in children with damaged brains. They are not so easy to sell on the market place.”
“Marketplace…” everything and everybody has a price tag to the Mafia.
“Benny is young but he learned that those drugs would keep him off the open market. Because he is smaller than the others, the drugs had a greater effect; they destroyed the speech center in his brain.”
The nurse in me wanted to heal Benny, The mom in me wanted to comfort him.
Every time I saw Benny, I brought him some special sweet and a smile. He started sitting next to me and holding my hand. I cherished that little boy. Sad that his mother got so strung out on drugs that she couldn’t see the beauty of her child.
When I left, I asked him to take care of a sweater for me. I also asked him to hand out sweets to his friends on special occasions.
This is a true story. I have taken out some of the more horrendous truths. As I have been writing a story about Ukraine, my heart was heavy for so many children who never had a voice in Ukraine and in other places…
Every day that the men went out, we were concerned. Often Olga’s husband the pastor would go. He would distribute the food that filled the back of the van.
“More room for people escaping,” Vlad said as they loaded the van.
The men filled the van going out and Vlad would leave several of them behind each trip to help protect the locals.
“All men in the East fighting. The women are left with children and old women.” Olga’s husband Andre told us.
We stayed too busy to worry about the group of people taking food and medical supplies. We had more than 100 refugees each night.
“People in many countries send money and we can buy what food is in warehouses.” Olga smiled as she stirred another pot of cabbage soup.
“I heard that places like travel sites, churches, community groups are all gathering funds.” I said to my husband who ran all the errands and did the heavy lifting.
“Yes, Dmitre told me that Ukraine is hanging by a thread.” My husband’s shoulders slumped.
“What is the world waiting for?” I said in frustration.
“Some countries think Ukraine should just cave in and cease to be Ukraine.” His eyes narrowed.
We both knew there would be many women and children for sale and most men dead if that happened.
I wanted to scream at the injustice…
“I need to go back to 1991.” I said quietly.
“Hmmm.”
“I’m out of medical supplies. The Portal must know we need to get back.”
“We could use other supplies as well.” My husband wasn’t specific but I was thinking grenades. “Let’s wait for Vlad…”
Vlad agreed with us. “Portal knows you. Go.”
We tried to clean up as best we could and also wore Ukrainian clothing. I had a scarf on my head, an old grey skirt and old shoes. My husband had a worker’s uniform on.
When we went into the Passage, we noticed people sleeping on the floor, mothers holding their tired children and very few men. No one so much as turned their head when we walked in. We just looked like another tired couple.
I wanted to go to our room, but the risk was too great. We went to our clock on the third floor and went back down the stairs to the second floor at exactly 3 pm. The carpet was dirty and the design was almost covered in debris, but it was still visible.
“Let’s hope this works.” My husband held my hand with expectation.
I held my breath. Then I said just above a whisper, “We really need to enter.”
Nothing.
For a second, I thought I heard Valeria’s voice say “locked” but I couldn’t be sure.
As we left the Passage, the one thing I noticed was the guy who watched us and the surroundings like a hawk wasn’t there.
“I’m worried.” I said to my husband whose face registered the same emotion.
Thank you to the A to Z community and each blogger that joins in April.
This on-going story for A to Z challenge 2022 was originally written in 2007 in Odessa, Ukraine. I’ve tweeked it to arrive in 2022 but the elements of a multiaccess portal and a war (the original story had multiple wars) are original. The Passage that is central to this story is a real hotel built in 1880s. She’s seen alot of history stomp through her doors and I could feel the past while I lived there. I hope you see the tenacity of the Ukrainian people through this attempt to honor their bravery. The story about the shot up car and the people is one of many stories we got from friends helping people escape Mariople.
It was days but it felt like weeks before we saw Vlad and his boys. They all were wearing the ugly tshirts that we had bought at the beginning of our journey before we even knew about a portal.
“We are getting in…” Vlad whispered to my husband. “two or three men only. But we are getting food in and children and babushkas out.”
I put a chair behind Vlad and he immediately slumped into it. I gave him some borscht and brown bread. I had gotten pretty good at making this Ukrainian staple.
I went around to all the men giving them their food and pointing to where they could clean up and rest after dinner. None of the guys complained though there was grime and blood and bruises all over their bodies.
“Vlad what happened…” My husband rushed into the church frantic.
Vlad held up the hand that was holding the bread. “Let me explain.”
In between bites, Vlad told us of the last group he had gotten out of Mariople.
“These soldiers are heartless. We loaded up many people into small car. They each needed help to walk with canes or even wheelchair. They needed to get out of Mariople. Wheelchair and canes thrown in trunk and clothes and pillows to the roof of the car. How anyone could breathe I don’t know.”
“The car is covered in bullet holes, Vlad.”
“Getting to that.” He chewed. “They started shooting at all the cars getting out. Car in front and me pushed the petal down quick. Glass sprayed everywhere from the shattered windows, tires blown and pillow stuffing flew all around. Not one of us got one tiny scratch. The cars behind us was much worse. “
“What do we do with the car now?”
“Of course we fix it…” Vlad smiled that Ukrainian confidence that I had grown to love about the man who I figured was nigh on 100 – give or take.
I looked in my medical bag and pulled out scissors and a roll of duct tape.
My husband chuckled “You know that book titled 1001 uses for duct tape? I think we can make filling bullet holes and repairing car windows 1002 and 1003.”
Though we were all getting weary from no nights of sleep, bombs falling, and air raid sirens blaring, we were still able to smile at the little miracles in a war zone…
Thank you to the A to Z community and each blogger that joins in April.
This on-going story for A to Z challenge 2022 was originally written in 2007 in Odessa, Ukraine. I’ve tweeked it to arrive in 2022 but the elements of a multiaccess portal and a war (the original story had multiple wars) are original. The Passage that is central to this story is a real hotel built in 1880s. She’s seen alot of history stomp through her doors and I could feel the past while I lived there. I hope you see the tenacity of the Ukrainian people through this attempt to honor their bravery. The story about the shot up car and the people is one of many stories we got from friends helping people escape Mariople.
“You must come with me now.” The large man said with a deep accent.
I saw my husband consider his options then he put his hands up with resignation.
“Wise choice for you.” He ushered us toward a dark street and a car that was waiting.
I was considering if this guy was mafia, military, … none was a good option.
When we got in the car, he got behind the wheel and locked the doors.
“We have someone who needs to see you…”
My husband remained quiet and I followed his lead and squeezed his hand.
I know we drove out of Odessa, but I couldn’t tell you which direction. Then the car stopped at an old barn.
“Get out quickly we do not know what eyes are in the sky.”
I looked up at the sky and wondered if this was the last sky I would see.
It was dark inside until a single candle was lit. A man motioned us closer.
“This is important, but we must hurry.”
I could not see the man’s face clearly as his hat was pulled down and his collar up high. He had military rank that we could tell.
“I will give you this information to pass on to whoever you know that is close to Zelensky. No one can know I was the one to give this for my family’s safety in Russia.”
The man went on to give my husband as much information about locations and equipment as one man could keep in his head.
“The only way to fight this war,” he said in a whisper, ” is in the shadows.”
He then blew out the candle and was gone.
My husband wanted to call Dmitre immediately, but he knew this conversation could be a trap to find Dmitre.
We were driven back to Odessa and dropped off in another part of town.
“Passage is that way.” He pointed the direction for us.
“Let’s get to the church,” my husband grabbed my hand and we moved quickly. “I wish I could talk to Vlad.”
The church was so busy that we didn’t have time to think for hours. One of Vlad’s men had dropped off our supplies earlier that day so my husband stocked shelves while I dressed wounds and gave babies formula.
“I have to get this information out.” My husband said the next morning.
“You could go into any of the shops across the street. Have Olga’s husband Artem be your lookout.” I looked toward the street.
“Dmitre was pleased.” My husband caught me by surprise. “This is not the first Russian officer who has given vital information.”
“I wonder why?”
“Dmitre said most of the military were lied to. They do not want to see people die.”
I gave my husband a large bowl of Borscht and wheat bread. “Now is the time to rest before tonight and more refugees.”
*
Thank you so much for visiting.
This on-going story was originally written in 2007 in Odessa, Ukraine. I’ve tweeked it to arrive in 2022 but the elements of a multiaccess portal and a war (the original story had multiple wars) are original. The Passage that is central to this story is a real hotel built in 1880s. She’s seen alot of history stomp through her doors and I could feel the past while I lived there. I hope you see the tenacity of the Ukrainian people through this attempt to honor their bravery. Though this is fiction, what you read is based on facts being relayed from Ukrainian friends.
Gud skaper noko nytt ved sitt Ord og sin Ande, vi kan ta imot det i tru og få oppleve at han gjer sitt verk med oss. Hans skaparkraft verkar konstuktivt i våre liv og skaper noko som er verdifullt for oss. Naturkreftene verkar nedebrytande, i fylgje entropilova, men Gud er Ånd og det som er født av hans Ande består. Jesu frelsesverk er fullbrakt og fullkome. Han er den siste Adam, som er ifrå himmelen og som for oss har vorte ei livgjevande ånd. Han gjev oss den Heilage Ande frå himmelen av berre nåde. Han gjev oss det evige livet.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. - Edgar Allan Poe
penned in moon dust 