A few hours left
Til the countdown begins –
Monthly Archives: December 2015
A few hours left
Those gem-like eyes narrowed like a laser sight on a target. The constant pressure of that stare was incredible. Did the Teg not blink? Or was it on purpose? I found myself hoping it was genetic. As the silence (and stare) lengthened, I barely stopped myself from stepping backwards. I wanted to shift my shoulders and look at the floor, and that urge made me grit my teeth and stare back.
“You are not Ialuan?” he asked finally.
That was it? After all that?
“What?” I blurted, blinking enough for both of us. “No. I’m Kaihmi.”
It must’ve been the right thing to say. Everything about him brightened. Literally. I’d been told about the way they seemed to glow, but I’d thought my cousins were pulling my leg.
“The seekers!” He exclaimed, beaming. Then, he frowned. “But you are a deathwalker.”
My eyebrows rose. Hadn’t he said so earlier?
“Yes, I’m a deathwalker. Deathwalker Sephtis,” I introduced myself with a polite smile and waited for him to return the favor. But as soon as I admitted to being a deathwalker, the welcoming glow faded. His eyes narrowed once more.
“I thought seekers had no deathwalkers.” He said the last like it tasted vile. Obviously, this crew loved deathwalkers. And they were all really trusting and straightforward.
“Only two I know of.” I shrugged though my smile faded. This trip was looking better all the time.
The numbers fly by
Vague estimates and ranges:
There was no sign of Mom and Dad in the yard. Matt grabbed the post and yanked himself to a halt at the edge of the porch. Sarah blasted by him and down the steps.
“What are you doing?” she hollered back at him, spinning herself around and scattering chickens.
“Hush!” he snapped and craned his head from side to side. He didn’t see anyone in the fields. When the wind tugged him toward the yard, he frowned but listened. At first, there was nothing except excited screeches and flutters, but then he thought he heard some sort of muted clatter of metal or wood coming from the barn. As soon as he caught the noise from the huge old structure, he took off. Ignoring the squawk of chickens (and sister), Matt darted through them and raced across the yard. He only slowed when he reached the partly open door, skidding to a halt for an instant before he stepped through the shadowy opening.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light that leaked through the narrow windows and the gaps between the slate roofing tiles, Matt walked steadily through the scattered straw and dirt until he could see the threatening shadows of old equipment. Mom didn’t like them to go back there (she was sure they’d fall on something and kill themselves). But that was where the noise was coming from.
Here’s to the morning after –
Sleeping in: exhausted bliss
Then slowly rising, kindling
The still-twinkling lights of
That merry tree, sipping coffee
Or other caffeine glancing at
The residual chaos with a
Amused and tolerant eye
(To be done at some point),
But then the kids are up with
Equally residual excitement
There are new toys to explore
And leftover sweets to eat.
A sip, a smile – a day complete.
as it was
time, and we
we ran in to bounce
on our parents’ bed:
“It’s Christmas!” we cried.
“Wake up! Wake up!” Then,
we all went to see the tree, bright
colors glinting off tinsel, garlands,
and ornaments, offset by the dark branches
and sky. Our stockings were stuffed, our tree
surrounded by gifts, but in the mad frenzy of
torn wrapping and cut ribbons, the warmth of a hug
And their faces lit by those happy lights were the