My Open Blook

The plug stood in the middle of town surrounded by a ring of green grass. On this grass were about a dozen barefoot children, none older than ten. They were running around, chasing one small boy who was successfully avoiding the small screaming horde behind him while deftly kicking a small hard ball ahead of him. Around the plug they went. The younger children consciously emulating the older children, who were now unconsciously avoiding either looking at or nearing the plug. From the youngest babe to the oldest grandmother, the whole town ignored the plug. It was as if they had a gap in their vision and mind. They simply stopped seeing the plug, it did not exist.

The air of silence surrounding the plug was total and complete. While visitors were few and far between, they never had a chance to ask. Any inquisitive glances were smoothly distracted to something else. Curiosity was easily transfered to some other novel sight or activity. That all changed the night James was born.

The omens surrounding James' birth were confusing and conflicting.