More and more I find myself thinking about those days. I wonder if it's a reflection of my yearning for spring, or a desire to reconnect with something I've missed. It was very nice of you to say that each part of this was necessary, that every skyscraper or set piece had its place in what you described as a puzzle. That tells me I did something right. Thanks very much for reading!
I am delighted you could join me in my explorations in the woods and fields. There was so much to fascinate my young imagination, and not a screen or keyboard in sight - at least, not if you don't include the stolid Royal typewriter that sat in the parlor. Thank you so much for your comments and for reading!
I’m so very happy these struck a chord with you. You related these to Kimo, and the comparison is apt. It wasn’t my intention to write in such stillness, but it seemed like those long, hot motionless days of summer permeated my thinking. Thank you for coming along with me on this journey.
I’m truly humbled by your kind words. If there is beauty in this piece, it is distilled from those days when the sky and meadow and forest held endless possibilities. Thank you for inspiring this piece, and for your steadfast encouragement.
My palate was intrigued, and my ear delighted with these. I might venture some guesses at the poetic dishes you describe, but perhaps I will save them for later. I have a knack for guessing wrong, so I will think on the matter first.
These represent a beautifully painted recollection. Your descriptions lead us to hear with your ears and see through your eyes; I can feel the sand. Thank you.
Thank you very much for reading this and for your comments. It was a great sadness that the house burned. Yet the land remains as beautiful as it ever was, and perhaps even wilder now than then. Thanks again.
Three birches,
Despite their advanced age
Stand tall and graceful, like thoroughbreds,
With supple limbs and green manes stirred by the warm breeze;
At their feet, the brook whispers a song
To charm the daylilies
Into bloom.
~ ~ ~
About halfway up the rise,
on the east side of the meadow,
my grandfather found a spring
bubbling out of the granite stones;
there he dug a surface well
and encased it in cinder blocks
I am told this is a "Haibun" or "Quick Writing," as it is translated. It is a partial narrative, and partial poetic treatment of a very difficult journey I am even now completing.
I didn’t miss it, and it made me smile. Yet the kiss seemed to be washed away in the flood of terrible memories and the sleep induced by Liam’s subsequent injection. I wonder when Liam will remember it?
I feel so sad for Liam. This episode shows how very fragile he remains. Despite his earlier confidence and progress, he’s got so very much farther to go. TJ was right perhaps. Liam has to trust the staff to help him get well. Yet, I can’t help but feel bad for Chrissy too. What will become of her now?
I purposely left the timeline vague, but it has been enough time for someone in Campus Housing to evict and clean out. A guess would be that Ted and the redhead tipped them off after doing a search for anything valuable belonging to the ex-predator. They left the mess behind because they didn’t want the bother -they had another agenda. Thanks for commenting and for reading!
The central character isn’t easy to like, and that was part of the challenge in writing this story. Could a reader ever feel a connection to him? Thank you for making that attempt.
I’ve never posted on nifty, so perhaps it was a different story. I’m glad you’re trying this again. Writing a character without a name wasn’t easy; I’m sure it was tough to read, too. Thanks so much for your comments.
I have to give CJ and Owen a ton of credit for holding as much of themselves together as they could in the face of Pam’s ongoing interference. They’re supposed to give her, a sick woman, some grace, yet she gives them none as busy, deeply concerned citizens in a capital full of political ferment. Nice touch landing BHO on the Court…
Thanks so much for your immensely kind words. A was drawn to Z, out of his torment and into something far better. This epilogue allowed me to imagine moments in Andy and Zander’s later lives. They continue to inhabit my mind, emerging at odd moments during my days, as if to comment on my own activities or projects. Again, thank you so much for reading and re-reading Andy’s journal.