Giving Myself to Hope
And the group
Time had slipped by and I was starting to get hungry. Dinner was approaching. The sun was getting low in the sky. Not quite dusk but late afternoon. I gathered some of the wood and restarted the fire. The flames died down to cooking embers. I put some water to boil. I put some of the dehydrated beef I had brought in with a little season packet. It doesn’t make the best soup but it is good for an outing like this. I added some dried noodles to round out the meal.
The aroma must have grabbed the attention of my guest. As he awoke from his nap he looked as if he expected someone.
The others should be here soon, he said.
Who else is coming? I asked.
The rest of our group.
There was that word again, our. As if I was supposed to know who he meant. I must have looked a little confused because he said. I’m sorry. I thought you knew we were gathering. Didn’t Hope contact you?
No, I told him. I just had a feeling I should be here.
Good. he said. The psychic connection is forming.
About an hour went by when another person showed up in the clearing. A woman dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. She had a small bag over her shoulder. She set it on the ground and took a ground cloth out. Spread it out and…
