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Synopsis: Two Blocks from Slab Town is based on the actual events of Cissy, an eight year old girl, growing up in a Southern, rural town during the 1960’s. Her father was a World War II veteran suffering from a post traumatic stress disorder. Cissy lives two blocks from Slab Town, an area where homes were made out of rough, slabs of wood. These huts provided little protection from its predatory environment, animal as well as human. Cissy's mother was a clairvoyant, while her father was a clairsentient. She was able to survive and protect those around her by unleashing her sixth sense. As Cissy, I was glad to have this experience. I learned that a single flame can cut through the darkness making its own path.
Two Blocks from Slab TownWalk! Do Not Run! (part two)by Saturna Brown 
Posted: 13:00 March 15, 2009
In nature there are neither rewards nor punishments, there are consequences. (Robert Greene Ingersoll, 1833-1899)
Wild dogs were common in Slab Town. Everyone carried a hammer in their belt loop or used a chain for a belt.
Well, I was out of luck with having something to use for protection. A flash of using my bare hands flitted into my mind's eye. I actually felt the dog's hair and rushing blood as I imagined squeezing the life out of it. It's saliva oozed on my bare hands.
What kind of game was circling in my head? Why would I imagine this? I was a little girl. I should be wetting my underwear any second!
The dog continued to growl moving closer and closer. I began to feel foreign to myself. A powerful force began to submerge, just about ready to take over. As a child I did not understand this and was not ready for it. Later, as an adult, I would refer to this supernatural feeling as 'the beast.'
Suddenly, a gray car appeared out of thin air. The car shielded us from the dog. A blonde-haired woman rolled down her window and said, "Start walking! Don't run! It will chase you."
I had an odd feeling about this woman. It was like we had met before.
Joey and I walked away. When we far enough, I glanced over my shoulder. The car and the dog had vanished.
We were tired and thirsty when we reached our yard. I told Joey he could go first and use the toilet.
"Too late," he whimpered.
I sniffed! Yes, he did it all right.
"Sh-h-h, it's okay," I whispered. "I'm not going to tell Mother. Wait near the bathroom window and I'll help you crawl in."
When I entered the kitchen, Mother was making a pot of tea using tea leaves and not the bags. This meant only one thing. Guests would be arriving soon for Mother to read their fortunes.
She never charged to read anyone's future, but it was customary for her clients to bring something with them. It could be anything from a bag of used clothing, baked goods or a box of tea leaves.
Mother was Canadian and had English and Spanish origins. Her dark hair, brown eyes and light olive skin clearly indicated her Spanish roots. Father had met Mother during World War II when he was briefly stationed in Canada. They fell in love and were married in Montreal. When the war was over for my father, he moved back to his native hometown of Plant City, Florida. Mother always despised the heat of the tropical weather and dreamed of snowy days and sleigh rides on frosty nights.
Her mother, had been English, passed on the gift of reading tea leaves to all three of her daughters. Since I was Mother's only daughter, she had tried to teach me, but I did not possess this unique gift.
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