The Snworb

The Snworb

On a crisp autumn evening, Gosh "Flash" Jordon stood in an expanse of verdant vines, seeking solace. On this day off, his mind was not on football and Sworb Stadium, but on winemaking and his Ashtabula vineyard.

Yet, this sanctuary did not shield him from the probing inquiries of his wife, Lila, whose patience had been worn thin by his evasive silence about the year he vanished. Their home, nestled amidst rows of meticulously cultivated grapevines, bore the weight of unspoken truths and half-remembered memories.

Lila stood before him now, her gaze fixed upon the vines that, peculiarly, curved and twined into the letters 'SB'. "Gosh," she implored, her voice a blend of frustration and concern, "our vineyard... these vines spelling 'SB'... where were you? What does all of this mean?"

Jordon, his eyes tracing the same letters that seemed to mock him with their cryptic message, struggled to articulate his fragmented recollections. "Lila, it's... it's hard to explain. I remember lights, vast and unending, colors I've never seen before, and a voice... or was it voices? They spoke of unity, strength, and... and something else. Everything's just fragments, fleeting and elusive."

Lila's expression softened, recognizing the turmoil veiled behind his bewildered eyes. "But why the vines, Gosh? Why do they form these letters?"

He sighed, his gaze drifting toward the horizon where the setting sun cast an orange and brown hue over the vineyard. "I... I think I was somewhere else, somewhere far from here. And these vines, they... they were my attempt to anchor myself, to remember. I was told something significant, something pivotal about 'SB', and I thought if I could just imprint it here, maybe it wouldn't slip away."

His words hung between them, a tapestry of mystery and revelation. Lila reached out, her hand clasping his. "You're back now, Gosh. That's what matters. But this... all of this feels like it's leading to something, doesn't it?"

Jordon nodded, his eyes meeting hers with a newfound determination. "Yes, it does. And I think it's connected to the team, to The Snworb. There's something I need to do. Something I need to tell them?"

Advance Regress