The girl with nine toes, Ray Wilkins [black female authors .TXT] 📗

The girl with nine toes
Ray wilkins


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We live in a world where over the last decades
human evolution has taken giant steps. The Computer,
Internet, Video games, iPods and other information and
entertainment tools are an everyday part of our private
and professional lives. Daily stress and the intake of
information is extreme and almost impossible to
assimilate into our normal thinking structure. The media
bombards us with news and views, images that shock and
disturb our inner Balance. Schools are falling apart as they
become fortresses trying to protect our children against
aggression, anger, injury and even death. Many people
have forgotten how it feels to lie down in newly mown
grass, beneath the sun, listening to the birds singing and
the other soothing sounds of life. We have lost contact to
ourselves, to our emotions to our spirit. This is a story
about people finding their way back into the awareness
of feeling whole. It is a story about waking up and having
the courage to look at life within the heart. How often do
you think back to the past and think “if only I had done
that differently!„ Sometimes with regret. Sometimes with
sadness and sometimes even with a feeling of
hopelessness.This is a tale about a man who chose to
change his way of living. Not an easy decision for anyone,
especially when it means swimming against the current
but , what was that saying? Only dead fish swim with the
current. I hope that you, the reader enjoys reading this
book and that you also feel moved to make a change,
because I believe that everybody has the power to make a
change in his or her lives. Just ask yourself - what will
change in the future if I do this differently?

Ray Wilkins FRSA Belgium 2007
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The girl with nine toes
A NOVEL ABOUT PERSONAL CHANGE


RAY
WILKINS


BAREFOOT BOOKS
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The girl with nine toes


Copyright © 2006 by Ray Wilkins
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and
incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events or
persons living or dead, is entirerly coincidential.


All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in
whole or in part or in any form.


BAREFOOT BOOKS


The Barefoot School: College for coaching, training, art and
complementary medicine. Alte Schule Weisten B-4791 Burg Reuland,
Belgium. www.Thebarefootschool.com

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For Cordula and the girl with nine toes.


Down there where the Murrumbidgee flows
Beneath the weeping willow trees and gums
There lives a girl with just nine toes
She’s a wild one and lives alone
Among the wallabies under the sun
Unkempt hair from hot winds blown
She knows a lot about them old laws
Set down by the coloured lizard man
Spirits, bunyips and open crocodile jaws
Let her see your eyes and she will look
Into your soul and way beyond
Dreams and things like an open book
The girl with nine toes She knows
She’ll tell you to lay down your guns
And fight for peace with your feet
Running to the sun, now take a seat
Look at the world up there on the stage
The players of jealousy hate and rage
Who forget their song lines?
And that love only finds
Her victims in a world of peace
Free of smoke and grey gun grease
Down their where the Murrumbidgee flows
Beneath the weeping willow trees and gums
There lives a girl with just nine toes
And if you asked her for a hand
She will answer with a sardonic smile
How many toes have an angel’s band?
Do you need to seek that girl?
Down their where the war blood flows
Or can you find that missing toe
In your mind deep within
That gives you the answer
In this world to win
Believe in your power
To love your planet
And yourself
Grab it! Grab it!
Your life I mean
With full ten toes
Down there where you really care
Where your heart beat freely flows,count your toes!


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Chapter 1


He could hear the rhythmic sound of his running
shoes whispering across the forest floor. The sun shining
through the Gum trees sent shadows of light down to
play their weird games on the narrow path he was jogging
through. He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest
and his breath started to slow down as he felt himself
slipping into the running flow rhythm that he was used
to. Somewhere behind him he could hear the sounds
caused by his two bodyguards, he could hear them
grunting and cursing trying to keep up with him. As he
jogged through the trees enjoying this brief feeling of
freedom his thoughts wandered back to the events of the
day.

The alarm clock started its hysterical screaming at
seven o’clock and didn’t stop till I managed to roll over
and press down the button. I had a headache most
probably caused by the beer that I'd drunk at the
barbecue organised by the Lion's Club last night. I also
felt a dark cloud wrapping around my thoughts, a feeling
that I've had a lot frequently of late, actually since Mary
died two years ago. Immediately I felt the tears coming
into my eyes so I quickly swallowed them down with a
glass of water and three Aspirin. At the breakfast table I
started reading the “Canberra Times„ there was a new
article about me, talking about how weak I was, hanging
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onto the shirt tails of my friends in America, and basically
informing the public that I was failing the country, and if
something didn’t happen soon Australia would become
the next third world country. Unemployment was rising
and my rate of popularity was sinking. Even my
housekeeper keeps looking at me through hooded eyes,
clouded with disappointment as she cleared up the
breakfast table.
I heard the car horn outside in the driveway, it was
time to go