Printed: 268 pages, 6" x 9", perfect binding, cream interior paper (60# weight), black and white interior ink, white exterior paper (100# weight), full-color exterior ink (1266 kb)
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Listed in: Literature & Fiction
Minus the Imple is a fictionalized true story about one man's quest to find the answers to the phenomena that punctuate his experiences throughout his life. It's a story about love and loss, faith and humanity.
Does the human soul really exist, or is it merely a reassuring notion most people fully accept as real? Why do we believe in some things we have never seen, and yet we refuse to accept other notions that can't be ruled impossible? Faith is a curious thing. We will believe what we will.
Minus the Imple will make you think as you review unexplainable episodes from your own past. All you have to do is be willing to open your mind and believe in something you can't see. It's simple, really...
Lying there on my back, I slowly began to take stock of my condition. It had been a few minutes of very limited
air intake, and my arms and legs were burning and tingling. My face felt numb and my throat was dry and sore. I felt
emotionally drained and disappointed, and was angry that guilt had caused me to fail. I felt resentment toward my daughter and I felt trapped, forced to live when I really wanted to escape from
the pain of reality. And, as much as I had grown fond of him,I was angry that Minus had chosen this time to appear again.
Laying there on the cold floor beneath my hospital bed, I decided to forgive my daughter. She was just an innocent child, but I could only feel resentment toward Minus, who had no right to interfere. Still lying there, I was amazed that no one had heard what had just happened.
Carl lay in his bed, still asleep and snoring. None of the on-duty staff had been alerted, despite the outer door being propped open. I felt exhausted, depressed, lonely and afraid; certainly,
I was afraid of what the future might bring. I had a pounding headache, and was drifting in and out of consciousness. I fought to remain awake as long as possible, lying flat on my back on the cold, unforgiving linoleum.
As I finally blacked out, a torrent of memories flooded my mind.