About the Book
Alterworld Storybook
Bethesda
You can alter the world and alter your own life.
Be present at the burning of Joan of Arc, and join a history class where the Lusitania gets another chance. Experience the end of the world, and learn what to do about it. Visit “the homes of the stars” and a small, peaceful trailer court. Remember death in the past, and enjoy eternal life forever. Watch the atomic bomb fall on Hiroshima, and dream of a better way. A job is lost because a baby’s life is saved. Hear the author plead “happy” in court while in handcuffs and chains. Let God revolutionize your life as a Christian hippy. Analyze things that “they” say we are supposed to accept. Ride a bike and climb trees while RVs and boats roll by.
“Why not smile and sing on a beautiful day like today?”
The author is a seminary graduate, a Baptist pastor, and a survivor of 65 years in this world. He is also having a lovely time which he shares in the pages of Alterworld Storybook.
Section #1
I saw a person dressed in white, sitting beside my bed. “Hello, Marshall.” “Hello.” I didn’t know who it was, but I didn’t feel afraid or angry. I asked, “Who are you?” “I’m your guardian angel,” came the soft reply. “I’ve come to help you.” I didn’t know I needed help, or maybe I just wasn’t admitting it. “I’m here to guard your mind and your emotions.” I lay back down, though I needed to get up for work. “Your job will be okay. Everything will be okay.”
Section #2
There must have been a million of us. We were all friends, swimming and floating together, day after lazy day. Then things changed. We instinctively knew that we now had a goal, and we knew that our lives depended on reaching it. I was wiggling back and forth, as fast as I could, like everyone else. We were all racing to get to the goal first. The egg waited up ahead. I tried to wiggle faster. I was getting tired, but I couldn’t stop. I had to get there. I reached the edge of the egg and plunged in. I was absorbed into a new world.
Section #3
It had been a while since I had used my time transporter. No matter what the ads say, being dematerialized and rematerialized over the centuries takes its toll on a person. I had a stomach ache for a week after the last time. But there was a trip I wanted to make. I pulled the machine out of the closet and dusted it off. I set the time for May 30, 1431, and the place as Rouen, France. Then I pressed the green “Go” button. I found myself among a large group of peasants. I heard crying and quiet conversation. I saw some men dressed in ornate robes and caps, a young woman, and a stake. A peasant woman gave her a small homemade cross, which Joan placed in her clothing. She was fastened to the stake with wood stacked at the base. Then, it seemed like a silent eternity. The crowd was hushed. A man walked toward Joan of Arc with a burning torch in his hand.
- In Section #1
Guardian Angel
I saw a person dressed in white, sitting beside my bed. “Hello, Marshall.” “Hello.” I didn’t know who it was, but I didn’t feel afraid or angry. I asked, “Who are you?” “I’m your guardian angel,” came the soft reply. “I’ve come to help you.” I didn’t know I needed help, or maybe I just wasn’t admitting it. “I’m here to guard your mind and your emotions.” I lay back down, though I needed to get up for work. “Your job will be okay. Everything will be okay.”
- In Section #2
A Selected Life
There must have been a million of us. We were all friends, swimming and floating together, day after lazy day. Then things changed. We instinctively knew that we now had a goal, and we knew that our lives depended on reaching it. I was wiggling back and forth, as fast as I could, like everyone else. We were all racing to get to the goal first. The egg waited up ahead. I tried to wiggle faster. I was getting tired, but I couldn’t stop. I had to get there. I reached the edge of the egg and plunged in. I was absorbed into a new world.
- In Section #3
Remembering Joan
It had been a while since I had used my time transporter. No matter what the ads say, being dematerialized and rematerialized over the centuries takes its toll on a person. I had a stomach ache for a week after the last time. But there was a trip I wanted to make. I pulled the machine out of the closet and dusted it off. I set the time for May 30, 1431, and the place as Rouen, France. Then I pressed the green “Go” button. I found myself among a large group of peasants. I heard crying and quiet conversation. I saw some men dressed in ornate robes and caps, a young woman, and a stake. A peasant woman gave her a small homemade cross, which Joan placed in her clothing. She was fastened to the stake with wood stacked at the base. Then, it seemed like a silent eternity. The crowd was hushed. A man walked toward Joan of Arc with a burning torch in his hand.