Yeah yeah. We're here. Uh huh.
Well, we had this idea. Not totally sure it was smart. Yeah. Timothy is looking at it right now. No, no, it's a black flag. Pirates. I know. I know. I told you we weren't sure. How did they react? Not well. They kind of ... panicked, I think you'd say. Jumped over board. Uh huh. I think if we were starting from scratch we'd probably think it through a little more closely. No I know. The problem is they thought were were the pirates. Well... Okay, let's agree to disagree. Yes it was...
The farmer, his wife, the plough boy, and both maids set off towards the barn, with the old woman hobbling after. She muttered incantations as they walked through the village, then whispered to herself:
"All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well."
When they were within, Will took Pog's hand. "Will ye dance as we did at our wedding?"
"Happen I will, Master." she replied with a courtesy. Meg saw, if none other (saving maybe Will himself) the years fall from her face.
Mary didn't wait to ask, or be asked, but simply grabbed and pulled Tom's...
In the darkened room, the bishop waited, staring out of the window into the dying sun. In the half-light, the Gothic buildings of the Old Town appeared as if bathed in blood. They would be soon.
The princess would come. Oh she might have sworn an oath of loyalty to her brother but in the end words were meaningless. Actions were what really counted. And in a kingdom where son could kill father, could sister not kill brother also?
She had already proved her ability. It was well known that she was one of the most able poisoners in the...
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.
My lost daughter. Well, actually that isn't who she was, but as soon as I first saw her I convinced myself it was. I always do.
So far there had been sixty five possibilities.
John, my second husband was a patient man. Had to be. He was rich so indulged me. Paid for our trips round the world whenever there was a possible sighting. Gave me hope when everyone tried to convince me it was time to grieve, not continue searching.
Suzie would be fifteen now....
Potatoes.
The bane of my son's existence.
I set the plate down in front of him with a futile hopefulness that today might be the day that he wouldn't wrinkle his nose and recoil as if it were something deeply offensive. But it wasn't. And he did.
"I don't LIKE potatoes," he growled, glowering up at me.
His father frowned and made to reprimand his son's insolence, but I held up a hand to silence him.
"These aren't just any potatoes," I declared with authority, "These potatoes are grown by superheroes."
My four year old looked skeptical, but as he...
"What's the worst thing you ever done in a Church, Sunshine?"
I looked at Beloved, I shrugged, although goosepimples and ice water prickled my body. "I killed a pigeon once."
"What?" Beloved laughed, his mouth pulled, his cheeks puffed and he pinched one lens of his glasses, pulling them up his face. "You're kidding."
"Nope," I said and I walked away from him, my arms clasped behind my back and I looked back and forth, up and down, and touched the smooth paint of the white-washed pews. "I killed it dead."
"WHY?" Beloved was still smiling, I did not have...
"SUFFRAGETTE!" I looked around quickly. Nope. Nobody heard me. I wanted the throne but I was 'just a girl' and there were certain people in certain high places that thought that wasn't becoming a young lady.
The bishop was an ass.
Actually, the bishop was approaching *on* an ass. Perfect. With him out of the way nothing much would stop me. I sat in the branch over the path he was sure to follow, waiting for my chance. As he rode under the tree I dropped, garrote in my hands. I quickly looped the twine around his neck and tightened...
She turns around, but he has vanished again. She weighs the pros and cons of speaking before opening her mouth.
"I can see you," she says.
"I know," he replies. "I know."
Those two words send a chill up her spine. "What do you know?" she asks.
"I know," he repeats. Out of the corner of her eye she catches a blur disappearing behind a tree. That's where he's hiding, then.
"What do you know?" Now, she must simply be careful. It will be easy enough to catch him.
"I know." These last two words are breathed down her neck....
Kent was stabbing someone. I think it was Mary. Maybe it was Bill. I don't know. The important thing is that it was a person and he or she was in the process of being killed by Kent, who everyone called "The Guy Who Likes to Stab People." Once he tried to stab Tony buy Tony was wearing chainmail so it didn't work. Later they went for figs.
Kent finished stabbing the person, who then died. The person was red, slick with blood. I didn't know if it was a man or woman. When he was done, Kent wiped his...
The ocean, the land, the bridge. These are the metaphors of my life. I stand on sinking ground, toes curled against the tension of the the surf and sand, the give and take, the conquest and retreat. Submerge into eternity or hold my ground a while longer?
There is, of course, the bridge. The mediator. It arches over the rivals, dipping into one, clutching the hands of the other. It's base is mossy, cool, a fuzzed pillar for fish to dart around. It's back is hot, sunbaked.
The bridge is the holder of peace. It is the symbol of one....