Love Hate Fear Murder Redemption

Every time the locket caught a bit of light it struck him to the core. Its spark shattered the tranquility of any moment and sent him reeling. The light of day had not touched the fragile heart for almost three decades…until now. 

But when it appeared, known to some, a complete shock to others, that tiniest of trinkets took them to their knees. Given as a lie, treasured as a promise, destroyed in jealousy, plucked from death, hidden out of duty

Love, hate, fear, murder, redemption…all in the tiniest spark of gold.

Tucked in a Drawer

I walked in on more than one occasion, discovered him gazing off into the distance, unaware of anything around him. But that early fall evening when I found him sitting, staring at something in his hands, it was different. Scared, startled, or caught with something he shouldn’t have had, I’m not sure.

He shoved it aside, as if a piece of clutter on his desk. Setting his hand over it, he slid the tiny box into the drawer. Subtle, it was still hard to miss. And even if I had, his face…his face…lost? Afraid? No, I would have to say anguish. And that, he couldn’t shove aside…. or tuck into a drawer.

Nor could I erase the flash of gold that I glimpsed, inside the small, blue, velvet box. 

By the Light of the Moon

The door slamming in his face, knowing him, was probably well deserved. 

She’s crossed the room now and through the window’s lace curtain I see her curl up in her father’s chair. She puts on quite an act for her patrons, but sometimes, she’s still a little pig-tailed girl, just needing her mother or father. But they, like the whisper of innocence, are gone. 

Damn fool finally realized there’s a reason he keeps coming back to her. And from my vantage it has been one time too many. 

Nightly walks...not always the stroll expected or what one might see…by the light of the moon.

Reflection in the Snow

The shine of the past year has worn to a luster. New fallen snow washes over our tiny little town and for one brief moment all is new, clean, untouched. Time, like a balm to loss and heartache, places another layer on the scars we try to hide. 

The landscape of the place we call home has seen its share of pain and renewed faith. The stars light, then dim, and dawn breaks open the next chapter in this place we call Gracier.