***I ADDED A TON TO THIS. IT'S ABOUT TWICE AS LONG AS IT WAS BEFORE. PLEASE CRITIQUE***

"Hello."

"Oh. Hi. You look familiar...have we met before?"

"I don't think so. I've seen you around at this conference before. At least I'm pretty sure I have."

She tilted her head to one side.

"Ohhh that must be it. I've been here every year since they started this conference back in 2012."

"Cool! So have I. My name is Mark. Mark Barton."

He shook her hand.

"Melissa Grey. Nice to meet you!"

Smiles.

Masks of violet steel
the twilight armor
glinting
with assurance
as you canter by
astride
your steed
Eyes swoop to me
circled in
by two pits
of pale peach
skin
And your lips
raspberry
tint
So I blink
and the moment
my lids
go aflutter
you leave

“In the beginning there was nothing, which exploded."
- Terry Pratchett, British fantasy novelist

So assumes the (currently) most widely held origins theory as understood by the greatest minds in physics. It only gets better from there.

"'In the beginning,' they will say, 'there was nothing - no time, space matter or energy. Then there was a quantum fluctuation from which'" (Darling, 1996) everything came into existence.

Got that?

[Thanks for your patience. I'm changing the hair color of both Aggie and Jed, and maybe even how they look, act, move, etc. I wasn't totally in love with them the past few chapters, and some things may change. -- So this is the funny thing about reading something as someone is still in the building stage, haha. Enjoy! -- Sarah]

************

***

Under the stars, Jed trapped up the broken steps of the porch and pulled open the front door.

“I brought hot chocolate mix,” he called, jangling a tin-plated thermos.

I looked out at the vast sea before me. It was dark and foreboding, dangerous and cruel. My eyes traced the distant horizon, looking for anything—a leakage of light, a weak beam of the sun, a signal of hope. Straining, I saw nothing. The sea churned in a terrible, thunderous, and unearthly roar. It frightened me.

I turned and looked behind me. Surely there was a mistake. This is not how I had imagined my calling. But the road that snaked behind me, plain, unmistakable, and well-worn, was mine. My life’s journey—my calling—had led me here.

I am kissed
By the sun
I am embraced
By the dark
I am serenaded
by the wind
But I am not in love
with you
The sun shines
upon me
The moon glows
upon me
But I am not in love
with you
The breeze blows
around me
The silence stands
around me
But I'm not affected by you
around me
Sun kissed skin tingles
Darkness embraced nights
Silence listens to my cries
And the wind sings soft lullabies
I am not in love
with you
Yet I love you

Chapter 3 “Brown Mustard and Pretzels”

The kitchen belonged in colonial times, along with the rest of the house. Allen tried not to laugh as she rubbed the tarnished handle to the ancient oven and stared at the gas stove, scanning it for any visible switch to make fire.

“It’s hard to believe Aunt Sheila spent years alone here,” she muttered through a nasal chuckle, finally finding the gas dial on the side of the stove. “I wouldn’t have survived, especially being as old as she was.”

The gate that we enter is narrow
The passersby are few
The clouds above us are threatening
The fog is thickn’ing gloom

The brothers around us are fainting
Our blood is mixed with our sweat
The air is fraught with dark danger
The ground with pitfalls and snares.

But, hark! The cries of angels
Lo! The sound of song
Hear the voice of heavenly anthems
Ring out on higher ground.

Don’t give up, my brother
Stay strong, my sister dear
Though the war around is raging
Fight on to higher ground.

Ice cream
Sunny days
and that envy worthy running couple
Nike pants and special shoes
I'm however not jealous
As you sit up against me
And I feel a bliss only expressed
By smiles and laughter
Rocking back and forth
All four of us looking to the future like space cadets
A rocket ship engineered with green porch furniture
Hoping for age and wheel chair races
Present insinuations and a request for innuendo
Uncivilized words of depreciation not even present in my mind
Motherly corrections

Looking back on days gone by
On carefree days of youth
On summer days of simple pleasures
And winter days of snow

Barefoot days in glorious pastures
Berry pails at my knee
Picking yellow wildflowers
Clenched in an eight-year-old fist.

Dreams filled my brunette head
With fantasy and tales
They swept me far to days ahead
Of my life that God would give.

Dreams of future, ambitious goals
I was certain I’d attain
Dreams of wealth and high applause
Respectful fear and awe.