Cornondé Cobb
and the Valley of Dream
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Death, that silent specter, took Patrick Lenehan late one night as he walked home from a neighborhood bar. Drown in a large puddle some fifty yards into a cornfield, he woke to a separate reality, having become an eye on the sky and all that surrounded him. One might dismay, being alone, isolated, and interred, in a cornfield, but Lenehan gloried in it, his senses alerted to the wonders of a greatly expanded universe. It warmed his frost bitten little heart to have shuffled off that mortal coil, and leapt, as it were, into eternity. Death, however, as life, is not always so fortuitous. One day...
Death, that silent specter, took Patrick Lenehan late one night as he walked home from a neighborhood bar. Drown in a large puddle some fifty yards into a cornfield, he woke to a separate reality, having become an eye on the sky and all that surrounded him. One might dismay, being alone, isolated, and interred, in a cornfield, but Lenehan gloried in it, his senses alerted to the wonders of a greatly expanded universe. It warmed his frost bitten little heart to have shuffled off that mortal coil, and leapt, as it were, into eternity. Death, however, as life, is not always so fortuitous. One day a fair maiden named Drew came along, and spied, what she believed was a body, buried in the snow. Lenehan was horrified, thinking he'd be dug up and re-interred in some blasted cemetery where his wondrous life as a dead man would be lined with lead, sealing him in darkness forever. But the fair lady did not find a body, she found only his clothes, cotton sweats, underwear and all, which she summarily ripped from the frozen ground and headed for home. In the grave, he questioned, "Where am I, if I'm not in my clothes...?" In a few hours she was back, having cleaned and dried his sweats, she wore them. Lying down on the spot where she'd found the clothing, she asked for divine guidance in this odd situation, and in a few minutes there was an overwhelming response, a coruscating energy filled them both, and as she sank into his body, their souls touched, and were merged together in what only she understood, was matrimony. In the grave Lenehan realized he didn't have to let her go, he could keep her, and all they would find were his sweats, lying in the snow, but when she started coughing and fighting for her life, he relented and released her. From that day forth, like a perpetual sentinel, she observed as the field was planted and the corn began to grow, and the story of Cornonde Cobb began to unfold. No greater love story, it is also the sword of freedom that the Cobb wields against those who believe power is the answer to the questions of life.
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