Time on My Hands

Chapter 7: 195-196 CE: A Haven, Eagle and Rome

After a brief introduction the women prepared supper the men accompanied by the curious and energetic boy took Raben and Ulixes on a quick tour of Barmaz. There were several low piled stone fences around the farmstead and a few blocking off access to dangerous slopes. In the middle pasture there were fifteen milk producing cows for milk which became one of their cash crops of cheese as well as yogurt and cream with a few older cows sold off for beef each year to keep the herd young. Grazing amongst the cows were twenty goats which produced milk and cheese as well as wool and two donkeys each used to pull two wheeled carts down to the villages. The milk producing cows and goats were kept primarily in the middle pastures for ease of milking. In the upper pastures the bull and cows with calves as well as the buck goats and does with kids foraged. There were also one hundred sheep, raised for wool and meat. Twenty five pigs were kept in the smaller lower pastures. In the upper pasture were four scattered animal sheds to provide shelter during thunder storms. There were two smaller animal sheds in the lower pasture for the pigs. The farm was primarily pasture land with small vegetable plots for family use by the farmstead. About twenty five chickens, primarily for family use, lived in a coop at the side of the farmstead.

A Second Chance

By Dawn Natelle

This should make up for the long gaps between chapters before: Dawn

THURSDAY, June 9, 2016

On Wednesday night Gary got over 100 new members for the Hobo Army. However there were also several women who prayed at the paintings that evening.

One reason I didn't set this in the Masks universe was I wanted to explore a different set of circumstances behind people with powers. Part of that difference is that this world is darker than the Masks world. The villains are savvier, the crooked politicians more successful, the press less fair. The differences have been minor so far. Be warned that the next few segments will be pretty dark.

The Angel of Chicago

Part Thirteen: A Hand Forced

by

Rodford Edmiston

CHAPTER 42
I didn’t make it back to the courtroom as I spent quite a bit of time on my knees, trying to throw up my breakfast along with all the years of hate and fear. So many hackneyed images still hold truth in them, and mine was that of pushing against the locked door, which opens suddenly, and collapse is inevitable.

I could still feel his eyes on me, and the worst part of it all was that he didn’t seem to recall me immediately. I could almost read his mind: ‘Which rape was that one? Oh, yes. All coming back to me now’.

Jerry Tanner has a a lot of experience with games, but can he survive being caught in a game played by the gods?

CHAPTER 41
It got better and better as we counted down the days to the trial, and I ended up with statements from six more of the gang’s victims. Whatever the tariff said about their sentences after a guilty plea, it would end up in pieces once we were done.

Other things were better than I could ever have dreamt of, and no, I am not talking about me and a certain large man. It was Dad. He had really clicked with Blake, and I was almost feeling jealous, as the relationship was clearly mutual, and my own father seemed to be stealing time with Blake I wanted for myself.

Sod it! Life was good, not just bearable. I just wished Blake could have talked to me about the investigation.

I decided to try out a new style of writing. Sorry that I haven't posted anything. I've been doing a crap ton of readin'.

The Angel of Chicago

Part Twelve: Agreement

by

Rodford Edmiston

"We've pulling back from our efforts," said General Conyers, sourly. "Delaying the schedule. They've learned about the repository, but only from documents more than thirty years old. They have no idea what we're doing now, and we must do what we can to reduce the chance of them finding out."

Jerry Tanner has a a lot of experience with games, but can he survive being caught in a game played by the gods?

Interview with a rager

The security officer unlocked and opened the heavy door to the isolation cell. Inside there was a person, curled up on in the corner on the far side. There was nothing else in the room, no chair, no bed, no toilet.

“Get up you dammed heathen, Mrs. Carson is here to talk at you,” the guard barked, walking over and using the end of his nightstick to punch the prisoner in the kidney. When he didn’t move, the guard drew the baton back to deliver a full power blow. He turned his head when he was prevented from completing the swing.