Aaron ran through the camp blowing his horn, it was time for the men to come and eat their supper. This was Aaron’s favorite time of day, for then Jidda, his grandmother would tell them a story. Aaron’s father had died in Israel; he had been stoned by the leaders of his family’s village. Aaron’s relatives believed the teachings of Jesus and so were persecuted by all leaders in their homeland. Aaron never understood why the others (As I will call surrounding countries who don’t like Christians) didn’t like Christians; couldn’t they all get along in peace?

I have been super busy this week and didn't have time to write something new so I pulled this out to share. :) It is the second flash story that I ever wrote, and the second piece of fiction that I wrote. :) So please forgive it's pitiful appearance and feel free to laugh!
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David Spencer looked down into Claudia's face.
"Yow seem extra happy today, Miss Claudia. May I take the liberty to ask why?"
"Yes, you may!" Claudia laughingly replied. "My dear friend from back at my old home is coming on September thirty-first to spend a whole month with me, and I can't wait! I have missed her so much since we moved, and am so pleased that she will be able to make it for a visit."
"I am very happy for you, Miss Claudia! What is your friend like?"

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ EITHER GREATER LOVE OR A STRONG FAITH THEN DONT READ THIS UNTIL YOU HAVE. :D

Just like that. After seven-and-a-half years, eight drafts, countless revisions, and a title change, my first novel is now published and available.
Finally--finally!--after all these years, it's 100\% complete and out there on the market for real.

Edit: I wrote this to practice telling a story starting at the present and telling what happened in the past through the characters.
It also happens to be from a dream that I had a week or two ago. :) me and dreams...

As an only child, most people said that I was spoiled, and although I didn't agree with them I guess that they were right. It hurt when people said "no" to me, hurt more than it should have. I became bitter. "Why did my parents spoil me?" I would ask myself. In spoiling me they had made my life harder because I didn't know how to face reality. Now looking back, I realize that I had spoiled myself. I called myself a man because I was tall, over eighteen years old, and my voice had changed to where I could sing bass without "cracking". But what does being a "man" mean?

[*Author's Note: This is the sequel to a book I wrote last year entitled "The Whispering Gallery." If anyone is desperate enough to read the first book, email me at thetravelingmagpie @ gmail. com and I'll send you a PDF copy of The Whispering Gallery, with the stipulation that you have to give me a bit of a critique. :D Enjoy, and as always, any questions, suggestions, or comments are welcome!*]

_____________

I was only eighteen years old when I first met Jonathan, and He was twenty-one. I met him at my house where he had come to dinner. I had already heard a lot about him from my older brother, David, because they were co-workers. They worked at a lumber yard together. David says they hit off right when they first met because their personalities were so much alike, and he was right.
When Jonathan came that first evening I was the one that opened the door for him, and right away I knew that I was going to like him. He smiled at me and said, "You must be Laura."

Claudia sighed and leaned her head in her hand as she looked out of the small window. Over-all she looked a little bit grave and thoughtful, but there was a sweet smile playing with the corners of her lips, and her grey-green eyes had a twinkle in them. She sighed again, rather gustily this time, and made a comical grimace as she said, "Will September the thirtieth ever come?"
And then she laughed as she read the letter through for the third time.