I used to occasionally think to myself : " One day , I'll write my Master Piece " ( Bob Dylan ripoff , replacing Paint for write )
Wrote a lot over the decades , ran out of Ink and Pads many times .
The web and PC's , came along , and now , well , writing it all over again without
the Ink and Paper problems .
On the Dude who lived there .
Norvil came to the U.S .
He got this cheap ass Job at the Place I was doing a Temporary Work contract on .
I never saw him without a smile , unless he was laughing or giggling .
We got to hanging out together ( he could use a Friend ya know )
When one day at Lunch ,, when I spoke of living in a Haunt as a child ,
He looked down at the Table , muttered something ,, Looked over at me ,, ( He muttered a Prayer )
Our Island has many Spirits ,, some not good ( Bahamian Accent )
He spoke of some events that he had with them .
One of the folks scoffed , I smacked their shoulder " Shut up man "
Norvil , no smile , no giggle , not laughing : " I got PROOF "
it was that vault .
years later , in some book I bought used ,,,
were his Photos , and the story . the same Photo's he had brought to work the
next day , the actual Photos .
Yeah well ,,,
got a Theory
something is buried under that Crypt ,
and I don't mean more Bodies .
something a Spirit wants someone to find .
make sense ?
when so little does , whose to Judge ?