I don’t remember falling asleep, but I do remember falling out of the darkness with a jolt. It was like being suddenly hit in the dark with a baseball bat. One moment I was lying in my bed next to my wife, and the next moment I see a white flash and I am standing in a large wheat field.
As I look out over the wheat field in every direction, all I see is miles and miles of wheat, which seemed to end somewhere a million miles away blending into the blue sky.
Then I hear a movement coming quickly behind me. I turn around swiftly and there is a man in a black three-piece suit, white shirt, black silk tie. He is a Caucasian, but his face is nicely tan. His hair in short, black, and parted to the right. He has black sun glasses on which have no frames; they just lay across his eyes. The man quickly reached into his pocket and pulls out what looks to be a business card. I look into his eyes, and his glasses dissipate, and I am standing there peering into his deep light blue corneas.
He smiles and put the card out for me to take. “It is almost time for you to die. You’ll be going soon. See you later.” He says to me with a smile as I take the card from his hand.
I look down at the white business card. There is something written on it, but I cannot read it because it is too blurry. “What does this say? I can’t…” The man is gone, and I am standing there all alone. And the wheat needs to be harvested.
Book eight in my Belinda Lawrence Classic Mysteries. Mysteries confront amateur sleuths, Belinda Lawrence and Hazel Whitby in the Somerset village of Milford.
Among the eccentrics is the shadowy Madam Malefic.
