(a/n: All coincidentally about an elusive and insubstantial “you” whose identity I’ve yet to discover. I guess I’ll keep writing about them until I do. These are all not-quite-enough to be poems on their own, and so they end up here.)

1)

All right, here's a short story. I'm not much for sad ones, but this one is sad. Well, it is to me. Make what you will of the ending. I don't like sad endings...I left it open to interpretation.* Let me know your thoughts.

Hello!
I just stared reading "Daddy-Long-Legs" and the language they use is fantastic. That kind of inspired this poem. It may be more than one part, I don't know. I'd love to know your thoughts.
Thanks,
Homey :-)
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The Unveiling of Amelia Rose

I must say I feel very lucky that-
Oh, I can’t bear to speak of it.
Only to say that I’m grateful you-
Made not an example of me.
Which you could have done quite easily.

THE NEXT afternoon Martje sat in the forest, cooling her feet in the stream. Any moment, her Rowan was coming. The light was prancing with the feet of flower-fairies on her head. Her bare legs were flickered over, yellow and white and purple, with the shadows from the tossing leaves. These woods was the only place she felt safe: neither her father nor her mother ever entered them.

Sagolandet was a child’s kingdom, sacred and protected.

To reassure herself of the security of its boundaries, she remember a day, three years ago, when its borders threatened to be breached.

Chapter Five

1. And when Leah awoke, the king was waiting for her. And he said unto her, "I shall marry thee, and thou must not refuse."

2. And Leah gladly accepted, and had forgotten what the little man had asked.

3. And in time, she bore unto the king a little daughter, and remembered her promise to the little man, and thought, "I shall not let him come night unto me."

4. And, lo, on the same day of the childs birth, the little man appeared, and said unto the queen,

5. "Wot not ye that ye promised the child unto me? Give her unto me as ye promised."

Moguncoy, Massachusetts

HER DRESS was bayberry-wax-colored, but that wasn't her fault; and her eyes were purple, but that was her fault, for she had on her soul the caul of the other world. She stood on the threshold of her girlhood, with hands like doves. Throwing her fingers into flight, she cried out from the depths of her being,

“Oh, give it to me! I want it. I want this all.”

If people had known, they would have said,

Chapter Four

1. And the king was still not pleased, and he commanded a third time that another room be filled with six tons of straw.

2. And Leah wept, for she had nothing left to give unto the little man.

3. And he returned again, and asked her, "Why weepest thou?" And she answered him, "Lo, I weep for the king wants me to spin this straw into pure gold yet again."

4. And he said unto her, "Hast thou anything to give unto me?" And she told him, "Nay, nothing." And she wept aloud.

There was one place she felt alone. It was a tree; a tree with a seat almost carved into its base. Though it was in the middle of a pasture, no one would think of looking for her there... she couldn't go back to the house. Not now.

She needed to be alone. Alone.

Millie could feel tears slipping out of her eyes and down her cheeks, and before she knew it, there were ragged sobs coming from her lips. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she ran faster towards the tree; she was almost there now. Just a little further...

Hello AP,
I guess I should explain being... absent, though I'm usually not missed :-P. But I have missed, many, many good chapters when I had been away. I've been extremely busy with schoolwork. But I have honestly been ignoring AP, because I knew it mean time spent. I knew, to read the stories I liked on here, I'd have to spend time away from schoolwork, family and also book reading... and writing, but I think since it's summer I can dive back in.
Just know, you might get a thousand comments from me, since I'm catching up ;-)

Blood is not immediately connected to crimes. The killing could have been an accident; the blood could be fake. Fortunately, advanced forensic equipment has enabled scientists and investigators to test blood to see if it is real or not. Samples are taken and blood drops are measured and the measurements are recorded. When blood droplets fall onto a surface, they form circle-shaped spatters and move slowly. Tiny blood drops come from high-speed impact, like when a gun is shot and blood spatters out fast.