As many if not all of you know by now, our dearly beloved Ben has announced that AP will be closing its doors come this October.
So many people here seem to be resigned to this, and I suppose I can understand why. But for myself, I'm simply reeling in disbelief! How can we leave this behind? How can I lose contact with all the people I've met here and the wonderful stories I've connected with? It's just not right!
Tighearnán couldn't understand it. The creature had only bitten him, and the wound was shallow. But as they struggled the last half-mile up the slope to home, Tighearnán was feeling more and more ill. Though it was a warm day, the breeze felt like ice where it touched Tighearnán's skin. The bite was bandaged tightly in a strip of wool torn from his own tunic, but it refused to stop bleeding and throbbed agonizingly with every step forward.
Dan was fighting bravely, but he was slowly wearing out. His larger adversary took advantage of this and drove Dan back to the edge of the cliff. Dan glanced around and saw Emily. She was standng against a wall. Her foe raised his sword and brought it down at her. Then his view was blocked and he heard her cry out. The sound rang through his mind. His shoulders slumped and his head bowed.
"Go ahead and kill me," he said, "I don't care anymore."
Sitting there, a flashback comes. He's laughing at something a friend says, looking so young, strong, so vibrant. Another, he's starting to break a horse and I know that he's indestructible, because, what could ever hurt him? His muscles ripple as he pounds a nail into the wall, he's building a shop with his two hands. I know he's a real man. I see him cry, as he speaks with his heavenly Father. As he worships his Maker.
What is it like here? I'm glad you asked. It's really a lovely place, our home. I'll tell you all about it.
We have such beautiful life growing here. Trees and oceans and animals. We love to look at them while we rest inside our homes that we built for ourselves.
We're so very happy, because we work so hard at it. We all have the same job, pursuers of happiness. We know that it's just around the next bend in the road.
The next day, exactly a fortnight from when she had come to the manor, she left it, wearing the same blue and green dress. One difference was that Aunt Eldira let her get up later than she had for her first journey. Their goodbye was not exactly affectionate, but it was not as cold as their greeting two weeks ago. "Recent circumstances," as Lady Eldira had put it, allowed for some empathy between the two. Eldira was mourning the loss of a friend, and, in a different way, so was Annica. She'd cried herself to sleep the night before over Alton's shocking behavior.
Sixty-Three
It was her sixty-third birthday.
Savannah stood by the front window, waiting and remembering Aidan’s sixty-third birthday two years ago. No party, no presents, no cake. Just the knock on the door and the van coming for her husband.
**I and some of my friends were challenged to write a poem and the only rule was that it had to involve pudding. I present to you a tragic story of love never fulfilled...make sure you have some tissues handy.**
Jacob gritted his teeth as a whip slashed across his back.
"No lagging, slave!'
He bent and pulled another rock from the pile in front of him. Straightening up, he walked as fast as he could with it to an ever-growing rock wall. He placed his stone carefully into a space in the wall and plastered it in with clay. He paused for a moment to wipe sweat from his eyes, and was rewarded by another whip slash on his back.
"No stoppin'! Back to work!"
Alice skampered across Darkrade's streets, grimacing at each throb her ankle made as it hit the pavement. Shadows were cast over the tip of her brown hair, making her bob look shorter than usual. Silver glinted in her eyes for a moment. She gasped as she was yanked up. Now it was all over. Alice couldn't escape and go save Sherylyn. With a faint sigh, she blacked out.
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