Fade to Black-2

Chapter 2

It’s still raining out I can smell it. Even before I open my eye’s I can smell it, hear it so clearly and feel it on my face…no… those are tears.

I don’t want to move. Dom and I finally made love and we crashed soon after that and I didn’t even dream, I felt nothing and no one and just pretty much passed out. I hurt, I hurt inside in ways I didn’t know people could. It’s not from fighting or from the sex it’s just…I just hurt from everything? I know that the soldiers in my pack get it…heart sick, soul sick.

The log in the stove had begun to burn. It lit up the room through the tempered, frosted glass enough to show him Tracy walking towards him. She had a blanket in one hand and Mr. Cuddles in the other. Her hair was flattened on one side and sticking up on the other. She had on a thicker nightgown and flannel pajamas. He smiled at her as she stopped at the couch. The image reminded him of how Troy looked when he had been younger, before their Dad insisted that boys didn't need teddy bears after a certain age. She looked like a small child, security blanket in one hand, bear in the other. “Can we join you?” She whispered.

A big thanks to Djkauf for the editing again.

More of Tracy at Christmas time.

Note: The rating has gone up because of Tracy recalling events at Brooke's place

In the evening, Steve was sitting in bed and I brought him soup and sandwiches and we talked about the movie we’d watched and how much he’d enjoyed it, too. I kissed him on the forehead again and went down to the restaurant. One of our reservations hadn’t shown up but two walk-in couples were a bonus and I watched over my sad little empire and wondered how I was going to keep it all together.

The Beneficiary, by Karin Bishop

Selected entries from the Journal of Donna Everton

Part 4

After getting my nephew back to his room and into bed, I brushed his hair back from his face and for some reason said, ‘Good night, Stef; I love you’ and kissed his forehead and I actually meant it and then he knocked me out by saying, ‘I love you too, Andonna’–the name he’d used for me when he was little! I almost couldn’t see my way back to my bedroom for the tears!

The Beneficiary, by Karin Bishop

Selected entries from the Journal of Donna Everton

Part 3

“Maybe he did as the servant said, maybe not. Either way, I fear he did meet with some misfortune, for the last I heard his family had not heard from him either. But wine can't be pressed into grapes. I met Itsulanu when I was angry and sad, and he comforted me. Now in less than three days he is to be my husband, and that makes me happier than I can say. I wish my sometime lover may be happy wherever he is; I forgive him.”

Daughter to Demons

by Jeffrey M. Mahr and Levanah

We have made thee neither of heaven nor of earth, neither mortal nor immortal, so that with freedom of choice and with honor, as through the maker and molder of thyself, thou mayest fashion thyself in whatever shape thou shalt prefer. Thou shalt have the power to degenerate into the lower forms of life, which are brutish. Thou shalt have the power, out of thy soul’s judgment, to be reborn into the highest forms, which are divine.

— Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Oration on the Dignity of Man (1486)

 

And so Adam, in that his speech to Eve
uttered his faith in the promise made to her
of her seed, so in that respect Adam himself
came in under her covenant.
— Thomas Goodwin

Rosetta: A MORFS Universe Story By Joreymay

A little girl collapses, near death. Spies, kidnappers, and assassins pop up in unexpected places. A morf hostile teacher gets Rose in trouble. On the up side, holiday preparations and a favorite relative comes to visit.

Part 2

It looked like the ‘girl meds’ were kicking in. I could see the gentle swell of a breast when he was sleeping. It could be the healing process, or the enforced indoor time, but his skin is marvelously smooth and clear–where it’s not scarred and healing, of course.
But the big change has been Steven’s demeanor. He hasn’t snapped or been surly for days and days. It was like the best day that he had, and the next one and the next one are just like the best day. He’s not high or giddy; he’s just not a jerk–and believe me; that’s a big difference!

The Beneficiary, by Karin Bishop

Selected entries from the Journal of Donna Everton

Part 2