Ambrose Powell Hill, known to friends and family as “little Powell” was born on 9 November 1825, the seventh and last child of Thomas and Fannie Russell Baptist Hill of Culpepper Virginia. As a child, he was an avid student, bright and self-reliant.

Florrete

The Sly Fox And the Bear

I: glorious love
sleepness nights
inside my bed
breathless cries
inside my head
a dream, a wish, a hope, a need
haunt my mind
when I can't sleep
glorious love
a heart so fine
your heart I dream of
becoming mine

Warning: A strong PG, mild PG-13. If any of the following bothers you, don't read:

-Use of the word 'gay' to describe someone's sexual orientation in a non-derogatory way

-One religious exclamation

Thank you!

_________________________

Chapter One

I opened my eyes.

I was blinded by light. Not just any light—bright, clean white that smelled so pure it made my throat burn. There was an ache in my chest, one that stemmed from my very center, squeezing out painful shivers with every heartbeat.

I'm not much of a poet, but I really felt like writing poetry. Hope you like it.

I stand here, all alone,
With darkness all around.
Yet even in this nothingness
I hear a little sound.

I hear you whisper in my ears,
I hear you laugh, I hear you cry.
A feeling wells inside my heart
That nothing can describe.

I feel Death coming nearer;
I don't know what to do.
And in that very second,
I know that I need you.

People are like birds. Sometimes the men are the peacocks with the big plumage and all of the little mousy female peacocks are coming up and drooling over them. Sometimes they’re like those awkward little birds that make a special dance for their favorite lady, and she heartlessly turns them down if she disapproves.
I guess that they could also be like preying mantises. I’ve seen girl after girl eat her boyfriend’s head.

Corporal Alphonse Hodges, Company F, 9th New York Cavalry of Buford’s division, peered out into the darkness along with the three other men in his picket, trying to pierce the shadows with his gaze. It was 5:20 A.M. on Wednesday, July 1, 1863 about a mile and a half west of a small town called Gettysburg.

*NOTE* I was bored, and was just sitting at my computer typing and erasing, typing and erasing. And then I started writing this -- and I'm not quite sure what I think of it yet. My sister was laughing quite hysterically when she read this, but of course, 'twas late at night. So, you tell me what you think. I haven't finished it, but plan to. It'll just be a short story, not a novel. *END NOTE*

According to mainstream science, no debate exists between evolution and creation. This is because science is defined as being inherently Naturalistic – a view held by atheists and Intelligent Design proponents alike. Naturalism, the belief that physical matter is all that exists, is the source of evolution and millions of years. If this is the case, that science is Naturalistic by its very nature, we would expect current research to confirm this. One area of rapidly expanding research today is marine science.