Losing Arguments

7th Day of Harvest Season, 342 Years After Mourning I spent all day debating with myself, only to discover I have lost the argument. At least the hopeful side of me has. The side that is still a little boy filled with a child’s belief that all will turn out for the best, that evilContinue reading “Losing Arguments”

New Arrivals

6th Day of Harvest Season, 342 Days After Mourning The message arrived before dawn, and mine were the only eyes to see it. For two days, I have risen before first prayer to check on the birds in the early morning silence, hidden from watchful eyes. Thankfully, we are too short-handed to assign a priestContinue reading “New Arrivals”

Midnight Mercies

4th Day of Harvest Season, 342 Years After Mourning Today marks the second day Brother Trinn and I walked among the families of the sick. He pressed a crisp sheet of baked wheat mixed with bark into eager hands, while I followed behind and offered sips of weak ale from a ladle. The refugees knowContinue reading “Midnight Mercies”

A New Beginning

2nd Day of Harvest Season, 342 Years After Mourning When I heard the footsteps, I knew they didn’t belong to Hilla; her feet traveled a different path, one filled with the soft lift of the sun and hope. Two wardens took her place, shuffling down the damp, stone halls. Silently, they dragged me out of myContinue reading “A New Beginning”

Answered and Unanswered Questions

1st Day of Harvest Season, 342 Years After Mourning “Twin rowans guard the bend where the river turns east. Count off fourteen paces—nay, double that for your young legs—and you’ll find the overhang. If you don’t see it immediately, sweep away the vines. Sleep there. In the morning, follow the river east. Look for myContinue reading “Answered and Unanswered Questions”

Catalysts

48th Day of Ripening Season, 342 Years After Mourning Praise be upon the Seven Silver Crowns, she agreed! I was unsure. The girl’s fear is almost tangible. I can smell it each time she enters, too strong even for the damp rot to overpower. Whether she fears me, or the unknown, I cannot say, butContinue reading “Catalysts”

Our Secret

47th Day of Ripening Season, 342 years After Mourning The quill no longer trembles when I hold it, though I still cannot walk. A thick, sticky crust keeps my right eyelid shut, while the left eye focuses lazily on the darkness, wondering when the pain will end. It is interesting how time increases in the dark,Continue reading “Our Secret”

One by One

 46th Day of Ripening Season, 342 years After Mourning  I have made a new friend, I think. Whether she is one of Imorgan’s or not, only time will tell. The newly ordained Cardinal, for I have no doubt that while she may have skipped the public ceremonies, the official sanctification of her role was institutedContinue reading “One by One”

An Indie Author’s Twitter Journey

At the beginning of May I created a Twitter account. Within that first week I gained 12 followers (maybe it was 11). When the confetti settled, I had no idea how to get more. I decided to stroll around the neighborhood and introduce myself. A few clicks later and I had followed some of  my favorite authors:Continue reading “An Indie Author’s Twitter Journey”

How Do You Decide Which Book to Read Next?

I shove Stieg Larsson’s book back on the shelf. I’m not really in the mood for such a dark read. That means Connie Willis and her Doomsday Book is out, too. Indecision wraps around me and the first touch of panic grips me. I start scanning the titles faster and faster, whispering to myself, ‘No . .Continue reading “How Do You Decide Which Book to Read Next?”