The Golden Glow of Nothing

By Cheryl D. Jacobson

I am a hopeless daydreamer. My seemingly, limitless imagination is a
diversion from reality. I can leave my comfort zone of boredom and
submerge myself into an erradic scenario of.... What If?
Finally, I lift my head up, that is my first crucial step. I focus on the present
with my eyes wide open, then... I focus on the past with my eyes tightly
shut.
When I am near someone who is both Good and Bad, I will play it both
ways in my mind. I take the Good and the Bad_ put it in the paper bag area
of my mind.
I shake it up, add a mystical twist to it and empty the story onto paper.

Hence: The Golden Glow Of Nothing

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463415006

Cheryl D. Jacobson

Cheryl Jacobson lives in Sioux Falls, South Dakota with her love, David. She is the youngest of four children and lived with her family on the farm until she was 16 years old. She has two children & three grandchildren. She encourages them to draw, write, create and decorate. It is her belief that creating gives us happiness & strengh. It gives us something to hold on to when our unpredicable life blindsides us.

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2011 by Cheryl D. Jacobson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Any similarities regarding this story, names, places, people locations & events is strictly coincidental.

First published by AuthorHouse 06/21/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4634-1032-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-1500-6 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011908552

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This book is dedicated to the people that I love.

You know who you are.

I step into the darkness although it is sunrise.

I see the clouds but the sunshine is bright.

I feel the chill even though it is warm.

I stumble & fall although my path is smooth.

I feel powerless to rid myself of the pain & sorrow that overcomes me.

Despite the darkness that I thought would last forever, I open my eyes and

see the golden glow of nothing.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter One

As Sarah unloaded the rest of the kitchen goods into the familiar kitchen of the old run down farmhouse, she felt uneasy & had to rest against the old dirty cook stove. A chill had suddenly overcome her, she felt weak almost faint. Frightened & dizzy, Sarah made her way to the front porch that was in desperate need of repair as well as the rest of the old house.

The leaves on the old cottonwood trees rustled, it had just rained. The fresh breeze helped her to regain her composure. Taking a deep breath, Sarah reminded herself that she had a long battle ahead of her & that she could not give into anything that could slow her down or stop her.

Still feeling uneasy, Sarah turned back into the dark, dismal house to finish what she had started. Instead of returning to the kitchen, she stepped into the front parlor.

The troubling memories had staggered her so severely that she had fallen onto the old dirty velvet sofa. Sarah laid there for awhile unaware that she was on the very same couch that her father had died on.

A familiar unpleasant stench revived her bringing on an instant panic that made her heart pound. Her mind reeled her thoughts wandered.

Sarah had vowed to herself that she would never return to this old house let alone touch the tattered & filthy sofa that her father had died on so long ago.

She could still smell the scent of the medicine that he used to take mixed with the scent of the tabacco he used until his final day. As long as she could remember, the house was always damp & cold, likely because of the roof that was in desperate need of repair. The rain would run down the walls, staining the once beautiful wallpaper.

Vaguely, Sarah remembered the house when it was once beautiful, even before the house was neglected, it was still cold & damp, although it seamed much worse to Sarah now.

Taking a deep breath & willing herself to stand, she walked over to the large bay window. Although the glass was covered in a grimy film with cracks & webs making it impossible to look out of, she gazes at the stream of rain drenching the already filmy windows. She notices the overgrown trees that seem blurry by the wet glass, and then she remembers…

The memories of her childhood haunted her. She was always thought of as different. Different in a way that she was trying to remember. She remembered her dreams of the Golden Bear coming to her while she slept. She remembered the peace that she felt when the Golden Bear would somehow let her know that when he takes her away it will make everything all right.

The bear always promised her he would come for her soon, but here she is, after all this time, still waiting for the Golden Bear. Still waiting for the peace that he promised.

She longed for the Golden Bear_ yet feared him. She was dumbfounded by her own indecipherable thoughts.

Mindlessly, she wandered further into the room. The odor of tabacco & medicine was much more intense by the window.

It reminded her of why the couch was placed in front of the window_ so her dying father could hopefully benefit from the sunlight that always was so bright in the morning.

Susan her older sister, always tended to father’s needs before they both would go out to do the chores after breakfast. Father would lay on the sofa by the East window in the morning & give Sarah & Susan there duties for the day.

The hard knock on the door snapped Sarah out of her thoughts. She stumbled to the door still realizing that she was not feeling well. The large man at the door greeted her with a cigar hanging from his lips that had the same nauseating smell her father’s cigars had.

Struggling not to gag, Sarah asked the stranger what the purpose of this visit was all about.

Smiling with his cigar still in his mouth showing the yellow of his teeth the man said with cold, piercing words,

Just wanted to personally serve you with these papers maam. Have a nice afternoon he