I long to feel your hand on my shoulder, old man, to sit beside you and listen, to have the quiet certainty of my faith in you ( Read more... )

Siut

Path: Mastigos
Order: Guardians of the Veil
Legacy (Suspected): The Fangs of Mara

The woman called Siut has buried her past, but it is rumored that she lost one or both of her parents in a suicide bombing when she was still a teenager. It's unclear when she awoke, or how, but in late 2008, she seems to have abandoned (or perhaps handed off) her ( Read more... )

I shut the door behind me, quietly, and step out into the night. I know precisely where I am, but I set out to lose track of that. I am nothing, a thought on the wind. I smell the ocean, faintly, and the acrid tang of a town at night ( Read more... )

"It’s the quintessential seduction technique: Show up at his door in a trench coat, heels and not much else. It’s a bold move that takes nerve and confidence."

Calliel sat at the table wearing nothing under her spring weight trench coat but a little silk underwear. She flushed.

"Um," she finally said. "This is way easier in books."

She did not have the words anymore, for her grief and pain. She remembered his, long-ago. Four years. A lifetime.

"Our path is one of pain, one of danger. There we can see clearly the price of the path we've chosen for ourselves. But all around, we can also see the strength and the purity of our ideals, in that we can all stand here together, to ( Read more... )

Because I only have to do the proposal for the book - an initial chapter for this class - I decided to focus on my dad's account of events and the historical record. If the project goes anywhere, I do have some other potential sources. But there was very little information available on the internet - a friend who some web searching talent was able ( Read more... )

Teachers, in my experience, hate writing progress reports. By the time a progress report gets to a parent, it is usually far too late for a student to change their grade. As a first-year teacher, Dad was no different. He was still putting them off that Sunday afternoon when the phone rang. Someone they didn’t know gave them the news. Without really ( Read more... )

Last year, when I was home for Thanksgiving, my dad and I were watching some late night true crime television. There are so many of these shows that I can’t really remember which one it was, or what the specifics of the case were. What I do remember is that the guy got out of jail, and I turned to my father, suddenly.
“Hey,” I asked him. “What ( Read more... )

I have named this project Ivory Scarecrow because I needed something to call it and I don't have a title ( Read more... )

You tell that you've got ev'rything you want,
And your bird can sing,
But you don't get me,
You don't get me.

The once and future Virgatore stared out the window while her hands deftly fastened a holster in place, then reached into the duffel, pulled out a knife in a sheathe and buckled that onto her leg. One by one she reattached her weapons, feeling ( Read more... )