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<img border="0" src="http://www.docsdetecting.com/xmasminer/inetcover.jpg" align="left" hspace="10" vspace="15" width="337" height="475"></font><font face="Papyrus" color="#008000" size="5"><b><img border="0" src="http://www.docsdetecting.com/xmasminer/hollys.gif" width="48" height="39"></b></font><b><font face="Papyrus" color="#008000" size="5">Chapter 1</font></b></p>
<font SIZE="4"><p></font><font size="3"><font face="Times New Roman">A cold chill rippled through his old body and shook Sam awake. The old prospector yawned, chuckled to himself, and said out loud, </font>
</font> </p>
<p><font size="3"><font face="Times New Roman">"My bones are havin' an earthquake! Dang that felt like a 7.2." </font> </p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">It had been that way a long time now. The loneliness and isolation had finally forced him into talking to himself, and yes, now and again he even answered back. Oh heck, who was he kidding, he talked back and forth to himself all the time. Why he had a running dialogue going from the time he woke up until the time he went to bed.</font></p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">"Flippin' stinkin potbelly stove never would keep this old dilapidated cabin warm through the whole night!" The old codger whispered, and in a louder voice came the reply, </font>
</p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">"Well you stupid ol fart why didnt you get up during the night and throw a few more logs in. You knew it was gettin low on fuel but you were too darn lazy to get your ol bones out </font>
</font><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">of yer bed werent ya' ?!"<br>
<br>
He did that a lot too. Hed ask a question in one tone of voice and then hed answer himself in a different tone. Made it seem more like there were two people talking back and forth instead of just one crazy old coot. </font></p><font size="3"><p><font face="Times New Roman">But Sam didnt really consider himself crazy, well not yet anyway. He figured hed give it another year, then around next October when it really started getting cold, he figured hed just go crazy then. Yup, next October, that was a good month for just goin right off the deep end.</font></p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">But for right now, talking back an forth to himself was enough to keep him company, and it helped him remember better days when "she" was around. </font> </p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">He looked over at their picture hanging on the wall of the old log cabin, "Oh Mary, darlin do ya have any idea how much I still miss ya, even after all these years?" But there was no answer. </font> </p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">Their love had been the kind of love that someone could have written a whole series of romance novels about. They met when they were in high school. She was 16 and he was 18. From the minute he had seen her, he knew she was his soul mate. This was the one woman in all the world that God had put on earth just for him. Unfortunately it took a little convincing to get Mary to see things the same way, but after two years of courting he finally got her before a priest for those "I dos". They had lived by those "I dos" for 52 wonderful years, but then Mary took ill and in three short months, she was gone. And when Mary went, Sams heart left too. Not the bodily organ that pumps blood through your body, but the heart that is the essence of a persons will to live and prosper. Its that miraculous something that just makes your whole body feel happy just to wake up each morning and see your beautiful wife there beside you. That special feeling was gone. When Mary died, Sam quit living too, he took to merely existing.</font></p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">Maybe that was why he liked to talk back to himself and call himself things like, "old fart". Thats what Mary would call him in a whimsical way. She knew, that he knew, it was really a term of endearment.</font></p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">Five years had come and gone since Mary had passed, but all the pain and the loneliness were still there. Not one little bit of that had gone. Where his heart once was, there was just an empty hole with nothing but memories. </font> </p>
<center>For the remainder of the story please go to:
(www.docsdetecting.com/xmasminer/chapter2.html)</center>
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<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="border-collapse: collapse" bordercolor="#111111" width="654">
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<p align="center"><font face="Times New Roman"><br>
<img border="0" src="http://www.docsdetecting.com/xmasminer/inetcover.jpg" align="left" hspace="10" vspace="15" width="337" height="475"></font><font face="Papyrus" color="#008000" size="5"><b><img border="0" src="http://www.docsdetecting.com/xmasminer/hollys.gif" width="48" height="39"></b></font><b><font face="Papyrus" color="#008000" size="5">Chapter 1</font></b></p>
<font SIZE="4"><p></font><font size="3"><font face="Times New Roman">A cold chill rippled through his old body and shook Sam awake. The old prospector yawned, chuckled to himself, and said out loud, </font>
</font> </p>
<p><font size="3"><font face="Times New Roman">"My bones are havin' an earthquake! Dang that felt like a 7.2." </font> </p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">It had been that way a long time now. The loneliness and isolation had finally forced him into talking to himself, and yes, now and again he even answered back. Oh heck, who was he kidding, he talked back and forth to himself all the time. Why he had a running dialogue going from the time he woke up until the time he went to bed.</font></p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">"Flippin' stinkin potbelly stove never would keep this old dilapidated cabin warm through the whole night!" The old codger whispered, and in a louder voice came the reply, </font>
</p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">"Well you stupid ol fart why didnt you get up during the night and throw a few more logs in. You knew it was gettin low on fuel but you were too darn lazy to get your ol bones out </font>
</font><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">of yer bed werent ya' ?!"<br>
<br>
He did that a lot too. Hed ask a question in one tone of voice and then hed answer himself in a different tone. Made it seem more like there were two people talking back and forth instead of just one crazy old coot. </font></p><font size="3"><p><font face="Times New Roman">But Sam didnt really consider himself crazy, well not yet anyway. He figured hed give it another year, then around next October when it really started getting cold, he figured hed just go crazy then. Yup, next October, that was a good month for just goin right off the deep end.</font></p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">But for right now, talking back an forth to himself was enough to keep him company, and it helped him remember better days when "she" was around. </font> </p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">He looked over at their picture hanging on the wall of the old log cabin, "Oh Mary, darlin do ya have any idea how much I still miss ya, even after all these years?" But there was no answer. </font> </p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">Their love had been the kind of love that someone could have written a whole series of romance novels about. They met when they were in high school. She was 16 and he was 18. From the minute he had seen her, he knew she was his soul mate. This was the one woman in all the world that God had put on earth just for him. Unfortunately it took a little convincing to get Mary to see things the same way, but after two years of courting he finally got her before a priest for those "I dos". They had lived by those "I dos" for 52 wonderful years, but then Mary took ill and in three short months, she was gone. And when Mary went, Sams heart left too. Not the bodily organ that pumps blood through your body, but the heart that is the essence of a persons will to live and prosper. Its that miraculous something that just makes your whole body feel happy just to wake up each morning and see your beautiful wife there beside you. That special feeling was gone. When Mary died, Sam quit living too, he took to merely existing.</font></p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">Maybe that was why he liked to talk back to himself and call himself things like, "old fart". Thats what Mary would call him in a whimsical way. She knew, that he knew, it was really a term of endearment.</font></p>
<p><font face="Times New Roman">Five years had come and gone since Mary had passed, but all the pain and the loneliness were still there. Not one little bit of that had gone. Where his heart once was, there was just an empty hole with nothing but memories. </font> </p>
<center>For the remainder of the story please go to:
(www.docsdetecting.com/xmasminer/chapter2.html)</center>
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