Lol, I guess as he saw him only once a year and was busy with getting angry he didn't connect the name with the man he knew.
There are longer and shorter chapters. I make the cut when I think it's the right place.
Maybe it was a knee-jerk reaction, hit first ask later.
Thank you, Cannd. I'm glad you think, it's an intriguing story. Hope it will stay this way.
The Holly and the Ivy
Chapter 1 - Reunion
Someone was shaking me by my shoulder. I could hear he was talking to me, only the words didn’t register. My eyelids were so heavy; it felt as if they'd been glued shut. I finally managed to pry them open, and looked directly into a smiling face. The crinkles around the eyes deepened when the man saw I was becoming awake. “You have to get out young man, this is your stop. The driver’s waiting with your luggage. He already called for you two times.”
The Holly and the Ivy
Prologue
I hurry through the freezing cold to the heavy church doors. It smells like snow. The cast iron doorknob sucks the warmth from my hand, makes me wish for a mug of mulled wine. Shit. The damn door doesn’t move one bit. I have to push with the force of my full body weight before the wooden barrier gives way and promptly hear an amused chuckle from behind.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, love.”
Nothing my ass.
The warmth from the inside of the incense-smoky church
My grandmother made me talk to Diarmad Guerin every year after Christmas Mass since I was three. The letter he gave me a few weeks before my eighteenth birthday changed my whole world.
A transparent pin? Very thoughtful.
Thank you, Peter. The rainbow poem has been in my head, but it didn't take form until yesterday. I'm glad you like it.
Thanks, Gary! I talked about rainbows with a student. First from a scientific perspective, then we did a more spiritual approach. Then the poem happened.
Water drops meet sunlight. Rainbow.
Opposite means beauty. Rainbow.
Breathe through my color of life. Blood.
Be aware I am danger. Red.
Bath in my comforting warmth. Sun.
Fear my wasting fire. Orange.
Enjoy my sparkling zest. Lemon.
Watch out for my acid. Yellow.
Visit my soothing forest. Leaf.
Stay on the path, don’t get lost. Green.
Lift your arms, reach out to me. Sky.
Avoid my biting coldness. Blue.
Paint your favorite color. Brush.
Found it was my eyes. Indigo
That's the beauty in poetry: You put 'the ugly' in nice rhyming packages called stanzas, and with every package done, some of the ugly is gone, or at least easier to manage. Another step in the right direction, I guess.