Prologue To A Dream
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"When my Mother gave me birth, the Great Mystery gave me life. My early years taught me the way of a free heart, and it was then, rejecting their brainwash, I became forever a spirit lost in the Borderlands."
I'm not sure when it all started, maybe around nine or ten, or more probably five or six, like I said I'm not sure. What I do know, is that by the time I started reading about such men as Thomas Jefferson, Lewis and Clark--and even more so the free breed that came later, Manuel Lisa, Bridger, Smith, Jackson and Sublette, and of those already there, Washakie, Crazy Horse and the others (renegade whites and Indians alike) of that forgotten frontier era, it was already too late for the modern indoctrination to fully take hold.
For when you smell the smoke of those fires, hear the howl in your soul, there is no compensation this supposed civilization can offer to satiate such stirrings. When it calls one has no choice but to follow their heart and break free.
The Lost Cache Journals are the account of a lad named Tobias Stewart who did just that back in the 1970's. His story as best he can relate it. An attempt to finally put in perspective all that transpired in his youth and the first 33 years of his journey--perhaps finally come to terms with the separation one feels when there are none to understand the journey, no one free of the trap--
And make no mistake--any of you, Toby didn't set out to live the life he ended up living, he'd hoped for a better hand--but that's what happens when one bets on freedom, shuffles and deals the cards--sometimes it does come down to where there IS nothing more, then nothing left to loose ...
Authors note:
 As always this has to be fiction, any names (real or imagined), places, incidents or mishaps are fully a creation from the fringes of my mind, and in no way are purporting to be true--any resemblance to people living or dead, or to events real or imagined are but a coincidence of that twist and I duly enter my requisite disclaimer to protect the innocent and convict the guilty at this time. As a convenience, I use both real and imaginary names, at times for the same character or place, again in no way does that implicate any relevant participation to an imaginary event by said parties real or imagined. As with all my works it is in a permanent state of rewrite and construction 'till it's published in ink, or I end up dead.W.J. Lynus O'Brien
Somewhere far South of the Circle, March, 2009 |
