“Scott, would you please stop ignoring me?! I don’t understand what I’ve done.” Samantha whined. “Yesterday was a great day! We laughed, snuggled and enjoyed the beach, went for our ‘sunset dip’. What has changed between yesterday and today?” She was sounding desperate now, but she didn’t care. In her mind things were starting to get better. Normal, really.
            Things had been so rough this last year; Scott had lost his job, started drinking a lot, and things snowballed from there. This weekend at the beach was their starting over point. A gift from her folks, a chance to get away from everything, rekindle some sparks maybe.
            Samantha moved from the kitchen counter to where Scott sat at the table. The deep red table runner was a drastic contrast to his pale, freckled arms. Oh, how she loved those arms. So strong, muscular with the lightest of hair. She stroked his bare skin, trying to gain his attention.
Scott snapped his head to the left, swiping at his shoulder where her hand had been as if flinging an annoying fly. Stung, Samantha quickly stumbled back, but said nothing. Instead she swallowed her accusing words and fled from the room and out to the balcony, not bothering to shut the door.
She looked back and saw the shocked look on Scott’s face. “Good,” she thought. Maybe now he’ll realize that I’m done being his door mat.” She’d never run out in anger before. Sure, she’d ran to the bathroom, or her bedroom, but she’d never left like this.
Hot, salty tears mixed with the windblown sand and sea water mist. She stumbled clumsily down the steps. She nearly ran right over a toddler building a sand castle in her haste. The child paid her no mind.
Samantha thought this weekend would be it. This would be the one where Scott would tell her how sorry he was for everything. That he loved her more than ever, would be excited about finally starting a family. She just didn’t understand what had happened, and he certainly wasn’t speaking. 
She came to a stop at the ocean’s edge. “Breathe.” She said out loud to herself. Not caring if the beachcombers next to her heard or not, although they seemed to not even notice her. Finally catching her breath, she began to feel the lapping ocean water lick at her shins. The sand underneath her feet gave way a little as the tide went back out. Amazing, she thought. The ocean seemed to be erasing her fears, her anger at Scott’s sudden change of mood. As if sensing her need for encouragement, the baby moved in it’s temporary home. “Everything will be fine,” she said to no one again. She lightly touched her blossoming belly.
She wiped at the tears on her rosy cheeks. Looking out over the crystal blue water, with its white waves, she watched the last of the surfers roll in for the day. She figured she had enough time for a quick swim. The sun still warmed the air, even as it began to turn the sky orange with it’s setting.
Hopefully when she came back, Scott would be restored to his previous good mood and they could get on with their celebrating.
As the cool water hit her thighs, then her hips, she dove into the refreshing sea, letting the liquid wash over her. For a spell, she moved with the waves. Flipping on her back the ocean carried her with it. She marveled at the sky, the beauty that was all around her. “I could stay like this forever,” she thought. She rolled over just in time to see a large wall of water coming for her. She tried to ready herself, but the wave crashed too soon, pulling her under the crystal blue.
 
Scott sat at the kitchen table stunned. For how long, he couldn’t tell. One minute he was the happiest man on the earth, the next, his world torn apart, he was as low as he’d ever been.  He was heart broken. He tried to save her. They had just gone for a sunset dip. “Oh, God. Why?” He asked, both his wife and unborn child. Gone. Just like that. He felt something on his arm, thought he’d heard his name. Startled he snapped his head to the left and brushed his hand on his arm as if there were an annoying fly pestering him. Moments later, the door to the balcony slid opened as if someone had walked out.

​​Too much carnage, way too much destruction. I shook my head, taking it all in and yet not quite comprehending what I saw. Was it really only three days ago that my world was perfect? It felt like a lifetime ago. Absently, I rubbed the deep purple bruise on my cheek; just one of many blemishes I had acquired on my pale freckled skin.
            “You okay?” Sarah asked, gently rubbing my shoulder.
            With a humorless laugh I replied, “I’m better than you sunshine.” Even with her arm in a sling and a wrap around her twisted ankle she was concerned about my well-being. Sarah, the only bright spot in this dismal desert. “How are you?” I asked leaning down to place a tender kiss on her scratched brow.
            “I’ll live.” She said, a tear sneaking down her cheek. Angrily, she wiped at it, as if it were a pesky fly.
            We both stared over the horizon at the mounds of twisted metal and fire pits. A week ago life was normal. We were blissfully happy. In three short days we had been forced to become warriors. A band of rag tag fighters. News reports spoke of even worse devastation in Israel, Egypt, Africa. I had a hard time picturing anything worse than what I’d seen here in the States.
            Voices of our fellow ‘soldiers’ refocused our attention. “We better head out, it’s getting late.” Sarah took my hand with her good one and gently pulled me back down the hill.
            For some reason, I had been elected as the troop leader. Maybe it was just dumb luck or my loud booming voice that demanded people listen when I spoke. It sure as hell wasn’t because of any military background. I hadn’t even made it to Eagle Scout as a kid. Whatever the reason, I looked down at the caravan of beat up, hastily modified rigs, about a hundred broken souls hovering around the last embers of the campfires, and knew I couldn’t let them down.
            Throughout the world, citizens were thrown into positions they hadn’t asked for- without question every Country’s armed forces had been obliterated. Sure, there were a handful of trained personnel, but mostly, our ‘units’ consisted of people like myself, like Sarah.
            Expectant eyes turned towards us as we made our way to the camp. A hush fell over the crowd.
            I cleared my throat and did my best to hide the fear I felt inside.
            “I wish I had better news.” I surveyed those in front of me, weighing my words before I continued. “Everything beyond these hills, as far as the eye can see is gone. There is no life that I could tell. Any vehicles we might have used has been decimated.” I hesitated, digging deep for some type of encouraging word. Sarah squeezed my hand. “The upside is they’re likely done here. Moved on. We’ll keep on course, there will be another small town in about twenty miles. We can pray that the Others have bypassed it.” I force optimism in my voice. We had come across as many destroyed towns as not. There was maybe a fifty-fifty chance.
            

Gabby was certain she was still asleep. In a deep dream state. Yet, the dream was so real. She could actually smell the air surrounding her, the soft fragrance of the flowers swaying in the breeze. The person before her seemed to look right through her. Wait, that wasn’t quite right. Whatever was before her was definitely NOT a person. A ghost. Maybe? Angel? Something otherworldly for sure.
 
Not daring to speak Gabby simply stared in awe. Whatever, or whomever, stood a mere five feet in front of her, and didn’t seem to see her at all. Gabby looked behind her to see if there was something she was missing. There was nothing, the being, however, just kept staring.
 
Suddenly, the sky above her darkened and what had been a breeze became a powerful gust of wind. Angry lightening lit up the sky and thunder shook the space surrounding her. What would ordinarily frighten Gabby, only fascinated her. Thus confirming her belief that she was indeed asleep.
 
The form in front of Gabby began to take on an unearthly glow. It was becoming decidedly feminine and appeared fierce. No longer was she just staring through Gabriella, but she was most definitely focused on something now.
 
Turning slowly, Gabby nearly fainted when she saw the dark figure behind her. It too, looked right through her, it’s attention on the angelic creature. It was fierce and menacing, with eyes that burned red and a gaping gash for a mouth.
 
With a quick, yet graceful swipe, the angel, (for that’s what Gabriella had decided she was), whisked Gabby behind her and faced the dark force.
 
“You can not stand between us forever, Aleana. Move aside so I can do what must be done!” The black one commanded. His eyes flaming.
 
Gabby tried to shrink further into the shadows. Not certain what was happening, but knowing it most definitely involved her. “What is going on? It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream!” She repeated over and over.
 
“You WILL NOT possess this girl. HE will not permit it!” The angel roared back.
 
The demon force shook with fury. “HE has no say in this. Now get out of my way, this battle has been decided. She will be ours.”
 
The angel Aleana blocked the demon’s attempt at getting through her, throwing him like a rag doll. Cowering in the background, Gabby watched, rendered speechless as the two entities battered one another.
 
She heard the pounding of her heart as if she were pummeling a door with her fists. Willing herself to wake up from the dream, yet unable to move or speak, Gabriella continued to watch the clash before her.
 
From somewhere unseen, hands tore at Gabby’s nightgown, shoving her, grabbing her. All the while her angel battled the beast.
 
“Gabby! Gabriella! Wake up!!! Gabby?”
 
Gabby’s eyes flew open, confused she looked about, unsure where she was. She felt cold, yet a hot sweat engulfed her.
 
“Hey. Are you okay?” Her mother stroked her hair, moving it from her eyes. “You were having another nightmare sweetie.” Pulling her daughter into a tight embrace, she silently pleaded with God. “It’s too soon, please don’t take her yet.” She begged. Gabriella’s mother knew, however, that the battle had reached a peak, and her daughter would be a warrior. 
 
 
TO BE CONTINUED……

​
 
Carly stopped walking for a second and listened intently for a long moment.
 
“Yo, what’s up?” Eric asked, obviously annoyed.
 
“Shh.” Carly hissed and held up a single finger, craning her neck at an odd angle. “I thought I heard something.” She whispered.
 
Eric rolled his eyes. He made a point of looking at his watch.
 
Satisfied there was nothing to be really heard, Carly resumed walking.
 
“I don’t see how you could hear anything with those shoes making all of that racket!” Her companion complained.
 
Ignoring his snide remark, she purposely clomped even louder. Hard as she tried though, she couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of hearing that voice again.
 
“We’re going to be late, you know. I hate being late.” Still complaining, he quickened his step and continued to rant about tardiness, loud shoes and how it was always something or another.
 
Carly successfully tuned him out. At this point she was putting up with him and his bad attitude just to get an overly priced and mediocre meal at the steak house. She’d just about caught up to Eric when she thought she heard the voice again. This time, it sounded like it said her name.
 
Stopping once more and wrapping her arms around herself as a chill permeated her body, Carly stood absolutely still. Straining to hear the voice again, all of her senses were on high alert.
 
“Carly,” it whispered, barely audible, “the time is near.”
 
“Huh? Who are you? Where are you?” She turned a full circle attempting to make out figures in the inky night.
 
“Car…. Who are you talking to? I’m right here. Come on, we’re going to miss our reservations.” Eric impatiently pushed a slice of his beach blond locks aside and tucked it behind his ear. “Carly?” He said with a hint of concern.
 
Still trying to find the source of the voice in the night, Carly hadn’t even realized she was being beckoned. She had an eerie feeling she couldn’t quite describe, and for the life of her, had no idea what ‘the time is near’ meant.
 
Finally, her partner for the evening reached out and shook her. “Carly!” He barked. “What is going on? Are you doing drugs or what?”
 
“What? Of course not, Eric! Don’t be ridiculous.” She wondered if she should tell him or not. Not, she thought. Eric was long on sarcasm and disdain and short on empathy and caring.
 
Again they resumed their hurried walk. Once they entered the restaurant, Eric was all charm and the perfect doting escort for the night. Every female eye followed the pair with envy. Carly knew the routine and barely kept the bile rising in her throat down. She was nearing the end of this charade.
 
Carly wasn’t a call girl or a prostitute by any means, but she’d made herself solely available for Eric for nearly a year now. There was nothing sexual, not even any real attraction between the two, but more an arrangement. A means to an end. Eric needed a hot gal by his side at client dinners and parties, and Carly needed a hot meal every now and again.
 
She was an artist, a struggling one at best, but determined to see her dream through. She put up with the verbal sparring and the ever so often rough hand that Eric offered just to get by. She hated herself for it and hated him even more because of it.
 
Lately she’d begun to feel different. Like there was a latent power lurking deep inside. She had begun hearing mysterious voices and sounds, just like tonight. She didn’t understand it, but was certain it meant something.
 
Eric held her chair out for her, the perfect gentleman. Their other guests had just arrived as well. As usual, Eric’s clients were rotund, sweaty with a distinct chalky pallor about them. Why they always seemed to look the same, Carly didn’t know. She also didn’t know exactly what it was that Eric did, or whom the clients worked for.
 
It had been made clear from the beginning that it was simply none of her business. What she did know was this…. She hated every one of them and was seriously looking for a way out from under this ‘arrangement’.
 
Bored and with a smile pasted on her lips, Carly ate her steak and feigned interest in the pasty man beside her as he talked about his many classic cars. Thankfully, he excused himself to use the little boys room.
 
“I hope you fall in.” Carly mumbled.
 
“What hon? Did you say something?” Eric asked.
 
“Oh, no. Just talking to myself.” She smiled brightly and patted his hand.
 
She was off in her own little world when one of the other portly men inquired, “Where’d Sam make off to? He’s been gone for nearly ten minutes now!”
 
She hadn’t noticed.
 
Just then, the waiter came to the table and whispered awkwardly to them all that there had been a little accident in the men’s room. Apparently big ole Sam had tripped, hit his head on the toilet and landed face first in the blue toilet water. Being unconscious, it appeared he may have drowned.
 
Paramedics raced through the dining room and the shocked party at the table stumbled after them. Even Carly followed close behind.
 
“No, it couldn’t have. Could it?” She wondered. Certainly it was a coincidence. Right?
 
The men’s room door was crammed with curious observers, Eric and his guests pushed their way in, moths open, eyes wide. Sam had been moved to the floor, his face, once pale, now ringed in blue looked somehow alien like.
 
A strange sense of victory bubbled up in Carly’s chest. Was this the power she had felt creeping in lately?
 
 
Just to try it out, to see if she truly was the reason Sam lay dead with toilet water on his face, she whispered, “I wish you’d fall flat on that pork face of yours.”
 
Immediately, the other client in their party, lurched forward abruptly and fell, landing next to Sam.
 
Confused, and a little bruised, he managed to turn himself around and sit up. “What in tarnation just happened? Who pushed me, you sorry SOB?” He glared around the tiny doorframe, noting that everyone looked just as confused and shocked as he.
 
“Ok, everyone out. NOW!” One of the paramedics barked. They had stopped working on Sam, as he most certainly was dead.
 
Eric and Chuck spoke quietly for a few moments, Chuck rubbing various parts of his body that had gotten hurt in the fall. Both ignored Carly standing off to the side.
 
“Carly, the time is now.” A voice whispered. She didn’t bother to look around, by now, knowing she’d see noone. Carly thought she might know what the voice meant, but she did not know why.
 
Sensing evil was the root of Eric’s business; she thought maybe she had been given this gift to reap justice on them. But justice was from God, was it not? Certainly what she had done was not a tool from God.
 
Not understanding, but certain she had a calling, she followed the men out into the street. They said their goodbyes and Eric roughly pulled her along.
 
“Eric, one day you will regret all that you torment me with.” Carly stated calmly.
 
“Really? You and whose army?” His mouth widened into an evil smirk as his grip tightened on her wrist.
 
TO BE CONTINUED…….

​ 
 
            “No way man. I’m not going in there. You nuts?” Kyle asked, clearly not budging on the subject.
            “Dude, come on. You’re not chicken are you?” Steve teased and gently pushed him to the side.
            “Let’s draw straws. Easy.” Carrie decided. She wasn’t scared, but wasn’t going to make it easy on the tough guys.
            Both men sat silent for a second.
            Simultaneously they answered, “Sure” and “No way!”
            “Come on Kyle, you won’t be going alone, you’ll just be going first.” Carrie prodded.
            “I don’t know how else to say it guys, I am not going in there!”
            “It’s ok Car, we can go by ourselves, let the baby stay behind so he doesn’t wet his diapers.” Sarcasm and something close to disgust tinged Steve’s tone.
            Kyle stubbornly ignored the taunting. Inside though, he was seething. ‘Screw Steve.’ He thought. ‘I don’t have to prove myself to him!’ Carrie, however, was a different story. He’d been after her for months. He hoped she saw him as being smart, not afraid.
            “Well, ok. I mean, it would be so much better if the three of us went.” Then to Kyle, “It’s no big deal. I just thought it would be fun if you came too. I was really looking forward to doing something really cool with you.” She smiled and reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Steve rolled his eyes.
            “Whatever, let’s just do this. Time’s wasting.” Steve was perfectly fine having Carrie all to himself in a dark, scary abandoned loony bin. He’d had visions of her tightly holding on to him creeping through the halls. Yeah, he definitely didn’t mind if Kyle stayed behind.
            Carrie could see Kyle’s wheels turning. She smiled to herself. Her brother would be so proud. It was his idea to prank the two boys. Him and his friends had it all set up; all she had to do was get Steve and Kyle there for the scare of a lifetime.
            “Alright,” Kyle sighed. “I’m in. Against my better judgment.”
            “Sweet!” Carrie clapped, excited. She jumped out of her seat and grabbed three straws, “Steve can I borrow your pocket knife please?” With knife in hand, she cut the plastic in different lengths. “Ok. Let’s see who goes first!”
            Steve drew first, then Kyle- reluctantly. Laying the straws on the table, Kyle groaned and Steve slapped his back and said, “Whoa, bad luck, man!”
            “Yeah, thanks, jackass.”
            “Come on guys, let’s go!” Carrie sprang up from her seat, an excited bundle of spunk.
            The two teenage boys slid out of the booth, both with different thoughts on their mind, one apprehensive, the other optimistic.
            It was only a block to the deserted mental hospital. Carrie knew where to get in without being noticed from the street. The three walked silently absorbed in their own world. Carrie barely managing to keep her smile hidden and giggles quiet. Kyle wondering what he’d gotten himself into- hoping that tonight he’d at least score a couple of points with Carrie. Finally, Steve was hoping to do a little scoring of his own. He felt confident his cool attitude about the loony house compared to Kyle’s scared little girl routine will help him win the girl.
            The crisp October air stung their faces and even their jacket pockets couldn’t keep the cold night wind out.
            Carrie looked back at her friends and motioned them through a wire fence. She couldn’t wait to see the look on the guys’ faces when her brother and his friends let loose the ‘monsters’.
            “Almost there. We have to take the tunnels. It’s the only way in.”
            “Tunnels? What tunnels? Can this get anymore creepy?” Kyle asked.
            “The Hospital had tunnels for transporting patients and supplies. It’s no big deal. Ready?” She held the door open for Kyle to go first.
            He took a long moment, then heaved an exaggerated sigh. Finally he took a cautious step inside. “Geez it’s freezing in here!”
            “Move it already, man!” Steve ordered, nervously looking around.
            “Here, take this.” Kyle was handed a small flashlight. He took it and scanned the dark, hallow tunnel. He saw deserted patient beds and stacks of hospital grade furniture. Feeling confident that there was nothing out of the ordinary, Kyle started moving to the right, following the arrow that said ‘Main Hospital’.
            “See, nothing to be afraid of”.
            Suddenly the abrupt sound of a heavy door clanging shut.
            “Holy Crap!” Steve shouted, startled just like the others. “Where was that?”
            “Behind us, I think.” Carrie had grabbed onto his arm, playing along with the ruse.
            Then, ahead of them, a clang of metal, something like keys. Behind them, chains.
            “This isn’t funny.” Kyle whispered. His hand shook a little as he shone the light behind him.
            “Come on, there’s probably just a rat or something.” Carrie whispered back.
            “Hey, is that a light up ahead?”
            “Where? I don’t see anything.”
            “Never mind, it’s gone.”
            “There are so many spider webs around here, it creeps me out.” Carrie moved up close to Kyle this time. She shuffled behind him, thankful he couldn’t see the hint of the smile on her face.
            “Hey! What the he…” Steve danced around a little swatting at his head and shoulders. “Guys, I swear, something just ran it’s fingers through my hair!”
            “Relax, there’s no one here! It was just a cob web!” Carrie hissed.
            “I think that’s the door upstairs right there.” Kyle pointed with his light and let out a scream! He backpeddled and nearly fell ontop of Carrie. “Did you see that? It was a person! A HUGE person!!!” He yelled.
            Carrie regained her balance. “I didn’t see anything. Your mind’s playing tricks on you.”
            Just then a dragging noise caught her attention, she looked behind her, a little spooked in spite of her self. “Steve?” She couldn’t see anything and Steve didn’t respond. “Steve, knock it off!” Still no reply except for another door slamming shut.
            “Kyle, Steve’s gone.” Carrie turned back to Kyle, who she imagined was still scared stiff by the person he saw. Her brother and friends were doing an awesome job! “Kyle? Hey, you ok?” Silence was her answer. Where did those two go? She wondered.
            She jumped slightly as she heard something metal rolling toward her. “Guys? This isn’t funny! What’s going on?” In the distance, she thought she had heard a yell, or a scream. A woman’s. Wait, that couldn’t be right. She was the only girl here.
            “Hello?” Carrie called? “Screw it,” she felt her way towards the door, kicking the object that had rolled her way. She bent to pick it up. The flashlight she’d let Kyle use. “That’s weird,” she said out loud. Opening the door to the main hospital, she knew she’d find a staircase.  Feeling a little creeped out, she slowly made her way up the metal stairs.  A noise stopped her in her tracks. It sounded like someone was on the stairs with her.
            She tried to turn the flashlight on, but it was dead.  The loud footsteps were coming closer… “Bryce?” She asked, hoping it was her brother. “It’s me, the guys took off.”
            Suddenly a woman’s high pitched cackling filled the stairwell.
            Carrie wasted no time in running back the way she’d come, her internal compass kicking into overdrive. The footsteps followed her. Carrie tripped over a piece of furniture halfway down the tunnel. During a slew of profanity, she became aware of voices. Whispers and giggles. Filled with terror and a sense of foreboding, she screamed when suddenly she was surrounded by lights.
            Laughter surrounded her and she finally opened her eyes to see Kyle, Steve, Bryce, his friends and her brother’s girlfriend circling her.
            “Gotcha!” Kyle said.

​            “Hello?” Kristen croaked her first word of the morning on a sleep laden voice.
            “Kris! Are you up?” Mitch asked, excitement evident in his voice, annoying the ever so sleepy Kristen.
            “Does it sound like I’m up?” She mumbled, groaning and pulling the covers over her head, laying her phone next to her head.
            “Well, come on! I have a HUGE surprise for you!” Mitch was decidedly not going to let anything dull his mood.
            “I think you have a HUGE case of annoying energy, actually.” Kristen said, a little less sleepy, but still crabby. “What time is it anyway?” She asked, peeking at her phone with one lazy eye.
            “Time for you to get up, throw on a swimsuit and meet me out front in thirty minutes!” Amping his cheerfulness up to a level, Mitch laughed and continued, “Come on. You’re going to love this, babe. Really!”
            After a drawn out groan and a couple of kicks with her feet, she responded, “A bathing suit, huh?”
            Knowing he’d hooked her, a fish at heart, he grinned. “Yup, and I’ll take care of everything else. Even grab you a cup of that caramel machamucholatte thing you like to help wake you up.”
            “It’s a caramel macchiato you moron, and ok. I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.” She didn’t wait to hear him say good bye, instead she ended the call and dramatically threw the covers back, the down comforter landing over the two snoozing cats and snoring dog lying next to her.
            7:30. Ugh. Typically Kristen’s weekend days started closer to 11. She looked longingly at her bed, the covers as she left them. Her pets also liked to sleep in.
            As she stomped into the kitchen, Kristen took a deep breath, her nostrils absorbing the smell of brewed Sidamo, and poured a cup, thinking she might as well get a head start on the waking process.
            The cats and the dog finally made their way into the kitchen with noisy cries for breakfast and a head pat or chin scratch. Just as the last drop of creamy coffee slid down her throat, the doorbell rang.
            Still moving slowly, Mitch pressed the button again and again in hyper impatience.
            “Enough!” Kristen yelled and wrenched the door nearly off it’s hinges. She smiled at the grinning handsome man in her doorway. He held a bouquet of flowers, picked from her own yard, and he leaned in for a long tight hug.
            “Good morning, gorgeous.”
            “Mmm, ‘morning. This better be good!” She said as she eyed her flowers. “Um thanks?” Kristen took them and quickly went to the kitchen and plopped them in a handy vase.
            “Ready? Better bring your sunglasses!” Mitch led the way to his newly bought Mini Cooper, opening Kristen’s door for her.
            She had to admit, Mitch was always a gentleman. His mamma had taught him well. “So what’s the plan?” She inquired once he got settled.
            “Can’t tell.” He replied simply and sped off down the road, to the freeway in the direction of the Columbia River.
            True to his word, he bought her coffee, and they were off again.
            “Why are you so annoyingly chipper this morning?”
            “You’ll see!” He said and kissed the back of her hand.
            Finally, they reached a marina, which housed dozens of sailboats and yachts.
            Kristen glanced at Mitch, a questioning look in her eyes, but said nothing. He took her hand and led her to a rather modest, yet beautiful sailboat and he helped her on board.
            “Mitch, what is this? What’s going on?” To the best of her knowledge, Mitch had never sailed before, nor did he know anyone that did.
            “Well, isn’t it obviously a sailboat?” He teased, smiling his trademark grin. “You can put your stuff down below, I’m going to get things ready.
            Kristen watched as he switched switches, checked gauges and went about his business. He certainly looked like he knew what he was doing.
            “You might want to take a seat while I get us out of here.”
            “Okay.” A little nervous, she couldn’t decide whether to go below to the comfortable kitchenette area, or stay above.
            Reading her mind, Mitch said, “You’ll be fine up here.”
            Amazed at how smoothly Mitch maneuvered the marina into the open river, she began to relax. It was a mild day on the river, the sun was warm, the breeze was light, Mitch had thought of everything….. cheese, sausage, crackers, fruit, the works! He even let Kristen take the wheel for awhile. Her hands shaking as she nervously steered the boat through the water.
            Mitch explained he had been taking lessons for several months.
            “But, why? I never knew you wanted to be a sailor!”
            “Because I wanted this moment to be perfect, Kristen.” He reached in his pocket and never taking his deep grey eyes off of hers, he grabbed her left hand. “Kristen, would you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” Mitch’s eyes became a little misty.
            “What? Oh, my gosh! Mitch really?” Kristen looked at the antique style ring on her finger, her heart pounding. She looked back at Mitch, her eyes misted as well. “Of course!” She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss.
            Mitch released the breath he’d been holding, just as there was a loud crack in the sky and rain started pouring down! So involved in each other, they had not noticed the ominous clouds above! Kristen let out a squeal as Mitch hurriedly made way to the wheel to turn the boat around towards the marina.
            The ride back was not nearly as smooth as the ride out, and after multiple tries against the rising wind, Mitch finally made it into the moorage space with only minor damage to the boat. There was nothing that could ruin this perfect day however, and Mitch grinned without shame as he helped his new beautiful fiancée off the sailboat.

I originally wrote this on April 28, 2011.
It rings so true this year!!

Oh, spring, why hast thou forsaken me?
 
It’s April 28th, but by all accounts near and far, it’s the middle of January, February at best. Here in the Pacific Northwest, we’re used to an excess of liquid sunshine. Really. It’s why our state is so beautiful. Snow…. We see a little. Ski season’s usually dwindled down to nearly non-existent in March, yet the Mountains are still getting blasted. Here on the valley floor we have rain, hail, sun, repeat.
 
Not only are my flowers confused, but apparently, my heating bill is too. I have the fireplace blazing as I write this! I am grateful for the days the sun does grace us with it’s warming presence. I thrive on good old-fashioned vitamin D. Everything goes better with that big yellow-orange thing in the sky.
 
My second problem with the conflicting and ever changing weather is this: I have my fall wardrobe, my winter duds, the springy outfits and the summer-wear. Now, due to the sunny-one-minute-rainy-the-next-and-oh-my-gosh-is-that-a-flurry-of-golf-balls-falling-from-the-sky weather system I must keep everything handy rather than having my seasonal clothes nicely tucked away. It’s a really good thing I have four closets at my disposal now instead of two.
 
All joking and whining aside, I realize the mild seasonal fluctuations in my neck of the woods is really a blessing. I see the devastation caused by hurricanes, tornadoes, flooding and non-stop snow storms that are happening all over the US. My heart aches for those effected by these horrible conditions. Many of my writing friends live in these areas that are hit the hardest and I am always fearful they might be caught in the worst of it.
 
It has been one crazy year all over. Even though I whine like many Oregonians, about the rain and the cold. I wait anxiously for summer sun every day, I am so glad to live in an area where that’s all there is to complain about.
 
In closing, God Bless all of you struck by unruly and indiscriminately weather systems.
Tomorrow and the next day and the next (that’s all I can commit to at this time), every time I think about complaining when the rain comes down in torrents, I will stop and say a prayer for those less fortunate in the weather sense than I. I will count my blessings. I will accept this new season called wisprifall without further ado.
 
Till next time,
Lori

Clarita carefully maneuvered through the fallen autumn leaves, being careful to not alert anyone of her departure. Fortunately, the season was young and the falling of the leaves had just begun. She couldn’t help but smile, even though the small gesture seemed out of place considering the circumstances. The beautiful tapestry of colors this time of year usually warmed her soul. She absently wondered if she’d ever feel that same serenity again.
She only had a small window of time before the clock tower announced the noon hour. The village’s mandatory siesta would end at that time. She quickly glanced around hoping that everyone else was adhering to the law and she could proceed unnoticed. So far the coast seemed clear and she could even hear the sound of distant snoring.
It was better to play it safe, so she continued silently, avoiding the dry light covering of goldenrod leaves.
Clarita had been planning this for sometime. She purposely cheeked the sleeping aid offered to her earlier and pretended to drift off with the rest of her family. She knew the risk she was taking, the law was very clear. She wondered if anyone else questioned the reasoning behind the mandatory mid day nap. What happened between 11 o’clock and noon that the elders wanted kept quiet?
She had overheard a Sentry talking the other day when she was reading in the garden. He had spoken in his robotic tone about the new arrivals and their future fate. Even though the Bots, as she liked to call them, spoke in toneless staccato, she gathered the new arrivals it spoke of would most likely not enjoy the treatment they were to endure.
Clarita could remember when the Bots invaded her small peaceful village. It was the day the laughter ceased. Fear permeated the space where once joy resided. Even though the Bots had stated they were there peacefully, it soon became evident that the consequence for crossing them was instant death; no jury, no questions, just an unbelievably bright light that eliminated anything in it’s path. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, yes, she knew what would happen if she were not back by noon.
Stopping behind an old oak tree, catching her breath and feeling pounding of heart like a hammer in her chest, Clarita listened for any noise that might alert her to the Bots whereabouts. Instead of hearing the monotonous tone of her captors, she instead heard the rattle of chains and moaning. Very faint, but terrifying, nonetheless.
She glanced at the clock tower. She had forty-five minutes to make it back to her mat. She wondered to herself what she would do when she got to the longhouse, where she was sure the new arrivals were being processed.
“I’m no hero.” She whispered to no one. Clarita was young and fit, strong for her size, but she’d never done anything heroic. She briefly toyed with the idea of turning back. So deep in thought, she almost missed the tell-tale sound of metal feet connecting with cobblestone. Just in time, she ducked back behind the tree as a Bot Sentry clamored by. “Stupid! Stupid!” she thought. Now sweat was beading on her forehead and she peaked back out to survey the scene. Coast looked clear. 
She darted from behind her hiding place, darting across the street dodging the leaf littered asphalt and took cover behind the nearest building across from the long house. She mimicked the moves she had seen on t.v. a long, long, time ago. Since the Bots had arrived, so many thongs had been deemed taboo and destroyed; telephones, computers, most books and television. Anything that could be used as a weapon had been confiscated. Little did the Bots know there was a resistance building and an underground shelter had been turned into a bunker, which was quickly growing with tools to use against them someday.
Clarita checked the tower again- 11:30. Not much time to scout things out. The longhouse was restricted. Once it had been the center of celebrations, community and laughter, now it was dismal and had an evil vibe to it. She heard the moaning again and Bots moving about, their feet scraping the floor.
She knew there was a small window set on the back side of the building, and she scurried around the corner. She nervously looked around, assuring there were no Sentries.
She stood on her tippy toes and peered through the cloudy frame. Her breath caught in her lungs and froze. Before her she saw rows and rows of people- adult men and women, shackled and bloody. More shockingly were those people that appeared to be only half human. Their bottom half was covered in metal, identical to that of the Bots. She was paralyzed by fear and disbelief. The Bots were multiplying by using humans. Bile rose in the back of her throat and tears stung her eyes.
Finally, Clarita moved away from the windows, she retraced her steps cautiously and encountered no one or anything.
She settled on her mat and closed her eyes, tears still trailing down her cheeks, she vowed to find the key to bring these Robot monsters down. She had to. She numbly heard the clock tower strike noon, and like magic, those around her started to stir. She pretended to just wake herself.
She repeated the mantra “The key, I must find the key.”
 

 I was always mesmerized by Corrina’s eyes. Ever since I was little, going to work with mamma. While she cleaned and cooked for Corrina, Ms. Abernethy to me, I would wander the old Victorian house, looking for treasures, often I would just sit and look at her eyes.
            Ms. Abernethy would sit silently on her recliner, staring at nothing. She was mostly blind, and a stroke had left her lame. Sometimes I would sit in front of her and imagine what she might be thinking. I would pretend I saw the world through her milky blue eyes.
            Ms. Abernethy was the oldest person I knew. I swear, I had never seen so many wrinkles. Her skin looked like fancy paper. Mamma had a lot of old people she helped, but none as old as her. She had a peculiar odor, as a child, I would describe it as moldy cheese. That always made mamma laugh and she would scold me, telling me to be nice.
            Mamma would tell me stories about what a fine lady Ms. Abernethy had been in her day. Her grandparents had been one of the first families to make their home in Oregon. There was even a street named after them, so I knew she must have been famous!
            I loved exploring in the big house; sometimes I even ‘borrowed’ trinkets that I especially liked. Being in Corrina’s house was like being in a museum, only better because I could touch everything and pretend I was Ms. Abernethy when she was young.
            When mamma was busy downstairs, I sometimes snuck into Corrina’s room which was almost larger than  our whole apartment. I would try on the pretty dresses and strappy heels, looking at my reflection in the enormous mirror.
            I was in every little girl’s heaven- the ultimate dress up game. I imagined how a fine lady like Corrina must have acted, and could spend hours in the world I had created for her. I had never heard her speak, but I just knew she had a Brittish accent. All of the rich and fancy ladies had one.
            I chatted properly with no one in particular, other than the people in Corrina’s photos. There was Miss Osterlander- the tall thin blonde in the photo by her bedside. Then, the old man on the wall, who looked liked Abraham Lincoln.  When I was hidden away in Corrina’s room, my friends were endless.
           
            Those days seem so far away now, as I sit here in my own recliner. My grand daughter visits now and again, but mostly it’s just me, my memories of friends I really never had, and of course, Corrina’s eyes. I keep them with me always. Sometimes I even hold them, the cool smooth spheres rolling gently in my fragile hands.
            When Corrina died, she left them to me. Somehow, mostly blind and unable to move much on her own, she knew how much I enjoyed them. In the rare times when I spoke to Ms. Abernethy, it was about her eyes.
            “Grandma, here, you must have dropped these when you dozed off. Would like them back in their jar or in your hand?”
            I looked up at my grand daughter, an image of my younger self and smiled. “I think I’d like to hold them for just a bit longer Corrine.”
            She put the two marbles back in my hands and moved the marble jar closer to my chair. “You have to be careful, grandma. You could hurt yourself if you stepped on the marbles when you got up.”
            I thanked her, and squeezed her hand. I slumbered with a slight smile on my face, memories of the marbles that looked so much like eyes, in my mind.
            
        
         

From an early age I knew I was "special". I had a knack for creating imaginary lives, scenarios and of course, friends. Growing up much younger than my siblings, who quite frankly, didn't actually enjoy my company; I was forced to be on my own frequently. I had some friends when I was younger. Usually, though I was kind of a loner-- a weirdo some would say. Instead of Barbies, I had names and personalities for all of my crayons. Instead of playing school with my friends, I had collected school workbooks and taught my imaginary friends. If you ask any of them, (my imaginary students), I was a tough, but fair teacher. I only sent them to the make-believe Principal's office if they were really unruly. As I got older, I read the magical Mrs. Piggle Wiggle series. She was fantastic. I also of course, read every Nancy Drew book I could and became quite the sleuth myself. Narnia series? Read it. Hobbit, Lord of the Rings? Duh. Encyclopedia Brown? Yup. Also every Judy Blum book I could get my hands on. These characters formed my eclectic imagination, it wasn't long after I started reading Stephen King and Dean Koontz. (I went through an obligatory romance phase as well. Some of those books still make me blush!) What I really liked though, was mysteries. Oh, and cops. I would wander up in the hills or down by the river on the bike paths as a kid in Roseburg. The scenery was nice, but I was really there to find bodies that had been hidden after some vicious murder. Or better yet....catch a killer myself (I considered myself to be a tough 13 year-old). That crime solving, body finding (what was that I just tripped over?) sleuthing child with the over-active imagination eventually grew up to an adult. Minus the imaginary friends (who am I kidding? They're still around. They have in fact just aged as well, and are now characters in my books. Whenever I am exploring in the forest, kayaking down the river, camping in the wilderness, walking by the river..... I can't seem to keep my imagination at bay. I am grateful for having an outlet for my vividly mysterious thoughts. I hope that you enjoy them as much as I do!!!