By Michael J. Kubat
copyright 2011 Michael J. Kubat
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Oh outcast land! Oh leper land!,
Let the lone wolf-cry all express
The hate insensate of thy hand,
Thy heart’s abysmal loneliness.
The Land God Forgot
Robert W. Service
Late August 2006, a dreary day. Outside reigns a featureless darkness: rain so thick that I see nothing beyond the windowpanes. Wind, gusting and shrieking, shakes the house. This is Ernesto, the first major event of the hurricane season. It surges over Virginia, dropping power lines, trees and on occasion houses, making life miserable for everyone. For everyone, that is, except me. Myself, I am more than pleased.
Shall I explain?
I am Jerry Wolf, grumpy recluse, refugee from humanity, content alone in this large and rambling house. This is my lighthouse and I am the lonesome keeper, grateful this day to nature for an additional barrier to keep the world at bay. Surely in this weather, neither thief nor decent man (if there are any such) would venture out of doors.