This place I love's my destination:
A town with little population
But without too much isolation.
I'll rest beneath sky's dome.
Can’t stop my hearts acceleration!
Of slowing it shows no indication.
I simply cannot resist temptation
To find my way back Home.
Morning’s come When light seeps, dusty-golden, To the floor, Dimly shows These cloth-bound shapes, wooden boards; I move back - Draw my sheet Closer, wonder through the sunlight With my eyes, Let them rest. In all these silent moments He will come.
Chapter 3
the Fairyland tree
**I apologize for the wait, everyone, but I had a lot of trouble with this part... It's kind of... I don't know. I'm still not really satisfied, but here anyway for your enjoyment is part seven.**
Inspired by the song Hot Air Balloon by Owl City, the movie The Human Experience, Amelia Earhart, everything that's ever made me laugh, my family, my friends, the existence of God, and living life just for the fun of it.
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Chapter Six: Palet
Ariach swung again, thrusting at my side.
I swung with all my might, trying to knock his sword away. The collision of our blades rang out over the crowd’s roar.
Vibrations shook my blade, and it fell to the ground. Ariach's dagger remained fixed at my chest. I sank to my knees.
I was dead. There was no doubt about that. Ariach reached over and cut my helmet strap. He stared at me for a long time. I wondered what was going through his mind. A tear rolled down his cheek.
He bent down, raising his sword high-
And handed it to me.
It was a foggy, dismal day in Combremere, Ontario. Our beat up mini-van rolled down the long dirt road that would lead us into our week at Cana Colony. I was sitting in the back seat, along with my siblings. I was also pouting. This was NOT the week I had wanted to go on. You see, there are multiple weeks when families can come to Cana Colony and camp together. My parents had overruled my vote to go with some families we met the year before, and so here I was, facing what I thought would be a long miserable week.
April 20th 1861
It was hot; hot and dry, I remember, the day that the telegram came. I knew the small intricate handwriting on the front to be that of General Scott, commander-and-chief of the Union armies. I opened it and barely read the summons. I knew what he wanted. I knew what I didn’t want to do. I knew what I couldn’t do. But that did not help me decide what I should do. Deciding to take one step at a time, I made up my mind to go in respect to the General and do my duty.