tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53624337070081867162024-03-06T00:51:20.090-06:00This is Not Hitchhiker's Guidedontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.comBlogger329125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-90214636100444535332016-06-06T23:34:00.000-05:002016-06-06T23:34:02.761-05:00Don't Panic Picture Prompt: June 6thAll right. Where are my challenge takers??? I know I missed getting last week's prompt up. I haven't had anyone step up for a couple weeks. Come on, I know you can do it! 500 words or less, inspired by the picture, due by Sunday June 12th at 11:59 pm CST, and add your link or your contribution to the comments below. Here's this week's picture:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ee0HB3XLev2RLMfnyVLY9icGIqlOwhR7D3ljy22FDSAN3eF_83dikLcyz0pHakmBDNMV7oXrfvKFFuq-FBWfF1d0oANlmoB5IYRgOfzngtqVWXg7VoEuc9R2dN69ncepbZXx2l9NTbo/s1600/IMG_9328.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ee0HB3XLev2RLMfnyVLY9icGIqlOwhR7D3ljy22FDSAN3eF_83dikLcyz0pHakmBDNMV7oXrfvKFFuq-FBWfF1d0oANlmoB5IYRgOfzngtqVWXg7VoEuc9R2dN69ncepbZXx2l9NTbo/s400/IMG_9328.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This was from my trip to the Badlands in 2015</div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-9773393298260919602016-06-06T23:27:00.000-05:002016-06-06T23:27:10.774-05:00Random Sunday: Incognito, Grass, and Training<div class="MsoNormal">
I know. I have been
off the grid for the most part for a while.
I have been working on a couple of projects that had back to back
deadlines. I cut those deadlines close
but both stories were turned in on time.
Now it is time to wait and see if they make the cut to be
published. I will probably celebrate
enough that a blog post will not be necessary if they do get published (I
promise, I will post about it if either of them are selected for publication,
including all the details of where and when they will be out).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My son was so funny this weekend. We went camping, which he loves to do. He was having issues this weekend with the
wet grass on his hands, particularly when he tripped and needed to pick himself
back up again. Yet, he loved to pick up
the various caterpillars we saw throughout the weekend. He also held a leopard frog and a dragonfly
over the weekend. He loves water, so the
wetness of the grass should not have been the issue. So, what is it? Maybe it is the prickliness of the
grass? Or the dirt?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have to say, I actually enjoyed the quarterly staff
training I sat in today more so than I have in the past two years. I love my supervisor, who is running the
training. It is much more comical than
previous ones. He acts out the sarcastic
responses to the different policies, such as staff safety, client searches,
etc. Then again, my supervisor cannot <i>not</i> do these kinds of things. Which made the training on confidentiality,
HIPPAA, mandated reporting, and the like a little more interesting since we
have to sit through them pretty much every quarterly training.<o:p></o:p></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-26973559000309943972016-05-24T21:21:00.000-05:002016-05-24T21:21:11.116-05:00Don't Panic Picture Prompt: May 23I know, I know. It's actually May <i>24th</i>! What can I say? At least the new Don't Panic Picture Prompt is up. I haven't had any takers for a while, so what say you? Will you break the dry spell and take the dare?<br />
<br />
Remember 500 words or less, use the picture, post a link to your work or the work itself in the comments below, and somehow incorporate the picture. Take a shot! I dare ya!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2Xnx-ObqLalVEoEhMpZbkKTBlEL0mrfgdpNuf1sr2QJ8n61EMqVqsPaXn04XghCoKCR4CufKAGOdgcXc_lAv9hsiEwx0oHgRPhteLDIPY9_2CnU3ily8TQiOzDiCn0wnJXWw0OvAh98/s1600/IMG_9444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2Xnx-ObqLalVEoEhMpZbkKTBlEL0mrfgdpNuf1sr2QJ8n61EMqVqsPaXn04XghCoKCR4CufKAGOdgcXc_lAv9hsiEwx0oHgRPhteLDIPY9_2CnU3ily8TQiOzDiCn0wnJXWw0OvAh98/s400/IMG_9444.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This was taken along Needles Highway in the Black Hills, SD</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
on my trip there in 2015</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-21315643599705347492016-05-22T23:32:00.000-05:002016-05-22T23:32:48.952-05:00Master Class: Into the WoodsRhys and Jen are back in the next piece of the White Wolves serial. Rhys is taking Jen to his place in order to keep her safe from a rival pack of werewolves while they continue the hunt for her abducted son. If you've missed any, please follow the link above to find previous pieces to the story. Be sure to check out other Master Class assignments via their badge below.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
They
drove in silence for the next forty or so miles. Jeremy slept against the passenger door. Jen stared out the window alternating between
hope and panic. She didn’t know these
two men and here she was, driving down the road to who knows where trusting
they weren’t going to harm her. Maybe
her mother was right and her hope, her need, to find Cullen kept her from
thinking through decisions well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We’re
almost to the last turn off. Do you need
anything before we do? Once we turn,
there’s nothing between the turn and the cabin.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m
fine, thank you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rhys
nodded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Feeling
a sudden rush of impulsiveness, Jen broke the silence.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The
herbs. Are they hard to find? I mean, can just anyone find them and lace
your food with them?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jeremy
answered without opening his eyes, “No.
They’re rare. And they need to be
brewed into a potion before they can affect us.
You thinking about trying to drug us?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No,”
Jen’s heart leapt into her throat at Jeremy’s words, “You can keep your
precious potion. I just wanted to
understand how someone could gain control of people as powerful as you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jeremy
sat up and opened his eyes, “Power has nothing to do with anything here. We are no different than you. We live, we love, we lose, we die. Just like you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That’s
enough, Jeremy. She’s still learning
about our world and filled with the illusions Hollywood has painted about us.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“My
apologies, ma’am. I did not intend to
offend. The messed up stories about us
bother me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“May I
ask why?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jeremy
closed his eyes. Jen looked to Rhys.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Was
that not okay to ask?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Jeremy’s
had a few run-ins with people who thought they knew about our kind from places
like the internet and Hollywood.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They turned
off the highway onto a dirt road that wound through trees Jen estimated to be
several hundred years old. She thought
she saw glimpses of fur as the headlights flickered into the forest. Horror movie scenes started to play through
her mind, though she never liked those movies.
Now, however, she seemed to be in one.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rhys
pulled up to a shed at the end of the dirt road. Jeremy got out and disappeared without a
word. Jen slid over, but stayed in the
truck.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Now
what? I don’t believe this shed is our
final destination.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It isn’t. We need to walk the last little ways. I have your things. Again, I swear, you will be safe here. In this place, my word is law.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still
feeling like something ought to be jumping out of the woods to kill and eat
her, Jen followed Rhys down a path no bigger than a deer trail.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ourwriteside.com/master-class-33/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwtGZdoWbkj2AicJOVitVLQ29mqav8xrgpsa7jK0-GxsTUeL2f2bVn4BKDUz3xzucRZvWJ-XpN310HybfrGRnb-QdIRsnd2wxDzRYrNoevgFk2OgNIuOVYO1QFDpmFp_ar49dEzBwGa4/s200/Master+Class+Badge.png" width="160" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-50303649462765373172016-05-22T23:03:00.000-05:002016-05-22T23:03:09.309-05:00Random Sunday: Nagging, Tomatoes, and Yoga<div class="MsoNormal">
Have you ever had one of those days where it seems like
everything is nagging at you? Today was
one of those days for me. Not that it
was a bad day today. It just felt like I
couldn’t keep up. From trying to get out
the door to church this morning to cramming in last minute stuff before
crashing tonight. Even Mickey Mouse
tapping his foot on my watch feels like he’s going “Come on, come on. Hurry up”.
And when I start feeling pressured from a digital image of a cartoon
mouse tapping his foot, I gotta take a lesson from that. The only question that remains is, what
lesson should I take?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tomatoes. I love attempting
to grow tomatoes. The problem is we
moved the end of June last year. Add to
it I was still finishing the last of my Master’s, I didn’t get a chance to try
to grow any last year. Plus, we don’t
really have a yard for a garden or anything now. So, we are attempting to do container
tomatoes on the deck. My son and I
planted the seedlings today. He had a
blast watering them with his new Mickey Mouse (here’s the flippin’ mouse
again!) watering can. The poor kid has
no clue how much water is needed to water plants, but he loved it. I’ll let you know if we succeed in getting
tomatoes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a first tonight!
I have been working on my certification for teaching Yoga Calm to
children. In the process of working on
it at home, my son has discovered yoga and loves to practice with me. Yes.
He does have the typical three-year-old attention span so we don’t get
very far half the time, but he keeps coming back for more. Well, today we were showing my mom and my
husband the latest pose I’d taught my son.
We got my mom to give it a try.
Then, a little later at home, my husband was even trying the pose! I’d love to see if they’d be willing to
continue since yoga is so good for you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-89242927980949633892016-05-20T22:26:00.001-05:002016-05-20T22:26:46.816-05:00Studio 30 Plus: Meeting the StorytellerYay! I finished the Studio 30 Plus prompt two weeks in a row!. This week we had raconteur and/or storyteller as our words. Please check out other great responses to the prompt through the badge below. The other writers at Studio 30 Plus have some wonderful pieces they share and would appreciate the love!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took
the proffered motorcycle helmet and climbed onto the bike. While there was that part of me that took
notice of his strength and warmth, much more of me cued in on the tension he
held. Cables on a suspension bridge had
nothing on Caiden at that moment.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We took
off down the driveway faster than I thought safe, but I wasn’t driving and had
no way to talk to Caiden. He turned onto
the blacktop. We cruised for almost an
hour before I saw the first landmarks I’d recognized. Edward had taken me somewhere along the edge
of the Superior National Forest. I knew
Virginia, MN only because I’d gone up there with an ex-boyfriend about a year
ago. The epic fight happened on that
trip. We broke up within a week of
returning home. I had not yet forgotten
that trip.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we
reached Hwy 169, we turned off. That
caught me off guard. I knew I35 was just
a little further south and the fastest way home. So, where were we going? Asking was out of the question. Once again, I was at someone else’s mercy
when it came to control over where I went.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We
stopped at a gas station in Grand Rapids.
He put gas in while I waited.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You
need anything inside?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Some
apple juice would be nice. Where are we
going? Home is in a different direction.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I
know. It’s time to take you before the
council.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
froze.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He must
have seen my panic, “Remember. Your
training was rather skewed. The council
isn’t what you think.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Really?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes. You need to learn the truth about our
kind. Not the half-truths and scare
tactic stories you were given before.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not
like I really have a choice here, do I?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Caiden
jerked back from me as if I’d slapped him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Is
that what you think? Look, Shayna. I’m not that kind of person. If you want to go home instead, I will take
you. Please, though, trust me. I do have your best interest in mind and I want
to help you. Goons like Edward and his
kind are not going to leave you alone and I want you to be ready to deal with their
ilk when they skulk around again.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
stared at him. A voice screamed in my
head for him to take me home and let me get back to my blissful and ignorant
life where I could just ride the high of a storm as I shepherded it through the
area to minimize the damage it did. The
quiet whisper got my attention instead.
Trust him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
nodded, afraid of what I’d say if I tried to speak. The tension left him and he smiled at me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’ll
be right back. We’re not far from the
council. It’s between here and, well,
Bemidji. In the Chippewa State Forest.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
laughed, “There’s nothing between here and Bemidji <i>but</i> the Chippewa National Forest.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He
walked away laughing and returned a few minutes later with two bottles of apple
juice for me and two bottles of Mountain Dew for him. We headed off. The ride was beautiful, with a crystal clear
blue sky, and the ditches speckled with dabs of bright color from random
wildflowers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An hour
later we turned off the highway onto a dirt road. It wound around Lake Winnibigoshish a way
before ending at a massive gate. Caiden
punched in a code at the control box tucked against one post where I had missed
it entirely. We passed through the gate
and up the dirt driveway to a huge rustic style house. Or maybe mansion. A man waited outside as if he knew all along
we were coming.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Shayna,
this is Marcus. Marcus, this is Shayna,”
Caiden said as he got off the now parked bike.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shook
Marcus’s outstretched hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Marcus
is our Raconteur.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m
sorry, your what?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Caiden
means I am our people’s storyteller.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Like a
historian?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes,”
he smiled, “Very similar. Only there’s a
little more to it for our kind.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What
do you mean?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Marcus
gestured to the door, “Why don’t you both come inside. We can talk there. I promise all of your questions will be
answered and you will understand why it was so vital Caiden bring you here.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p><a href="http://studio30plus.com/page/prompts" target="_blank"><img src="http://api.ning.com/files/D8W76et1CicHYCUzNCEVHCi8Rt-53DmDY*upEr0sUiHrYiID4wADk20lLNLygj1OflEkxnFY87BWH0tR241Slx9MceCxUaXi/S30PBadge.jpg" /></a></o:p></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-79178914240928083482016-05-16T22:21:00.001-05:002016-05-16T22:21:38.364-05:00Don't Panic Picture Prompt: May 16thOkay. So the Viking pendant was a bit too much of a stretch? I'll change it up a little this week. Remember, 500 words or less, due by 11:59 pm on May 22nd, inspired by the picture, and added to the comments below (link or full work). Let me see what you can do with this one:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-enAmJ9875cUzmykLZznmkXEYGEx0R_U40FeFnshMgrwFbprmP6-a0HCXqbT8xzmBk4oQi65Yloso3NEhdJJa0F66_WhM_BlKI8fk4_uui85GBCmJ1w43tIhGr8fjnK0qlaVi2V37FcQ/s1600/DSC_0128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-enAmJ9875cUzmykLZznmkXEYGEx0R_U40FeFnshMgrwFbprmP6-a0HCXqbT8xzmBk4oQi65Yloso3NEhdJJa0F66_WhM_BlKI8fk4_uui85GBCmJ1w43tIhGr8fjnK0qlaVi2V37FcQ/s640/DSC_0128.JPG" width="425" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A pond at William O'Brien State Park</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
taken on my hike there this last weekend</div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-81521063170910577172016-05-15T23:02:00.000-05:002016-05-15T23:02:03.611-05:00Random Sunday: Work, Allergies, and Ants<div class="MsoNormal">
Work. Even though I
love my job, I hate how much time I lose dealing with work. I want to write. I want to work on my quilts. I want to spend time with my son. I want to work on learning my photography
better. I don’t feel like I get enough time
to do these things sometimes because I have to work. However, I really don’t want to give up my
job either, because I love working with my kids at work, too. If I had my son’s energy, I’d wish for longer
days so I could fit it all in. I don’t,
though. So I guess I’ll have to wing it
and do the best I can with what I have.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Allergies. I know I’ve
been ranting about them quite a bit lately.
Here I go again. I really hate
them. I’m still fighting the crud going
on with my son. I am so hoping to figure
that out as scratch tests are likely up next on the list of things to do. Maybe it’s just me, but scratch tests with a
three-year-old just don’t’ sound like fun to me. And now mine are bugging me again. I know we were outside a good part of the
afternoon this afternoon, but come on!
Can’t I breathe for a little while without issues?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Riddle me this. I was
finishing cooking dinner for me and my son tonight. I opened the dishwasher to put some dirty
dishes in and found several ants. Big
carpenter variety. You know, the ones
that are like a half an inch long each?
Disgusting. I know. What I can’t figure out is how the stupid
things got into the dishwasher to begin with.
It was latched closed. Did they
hitch a ride on some dirty dishes without anyone seeing? Did they climb up the drain? How did they get there?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-90898575680528973082016-05-15T22:52:00.000-05:002016-05-15T22:52:02.356-05:00Master Class: Learning the TruthI am really getting on the ball tonight. First Studio 30 Plus and the Weather Riders got posted, now Master Class and the White Wolves get a little more to their story. Chalk this one up on the calendar as a red letter day. Be sure to stop by Our Write Side via the Master Class button below to see other answers to the prompt. For my piece, I chose Rancid Religion.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rhys
escorted Jen back to his beat up pickup truck.
Jeremy sat with his head back and his eyes closed leaning up against the
passenger door. Rhys gave Jen a hand up
into the cab before stowing her bag in the tool box bolted to the bed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once on
the road, Jen felt as if she could breathe a little better. Something seemed to whisper to her that this
would not end until Cullen’s arms wrapped around her neck. She vowed to herself never to let him go
again. Then, either insane recklessness
or unabashed bravery kicked in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Rhys.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes,”
his eyes never left the road.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Where
did those tattoos come from?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Which?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well. I could see several on your shoulder. Either that or it’s one complex tattoo. I couldn’t quite tell, but I’m thinking it’s
at least two different pieces.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“There
are actually three.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen
waited. Just when she thought Rhys was
not going to say anything else, he glanced over at her and spoke again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Two
are mine by choice. The third was not.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A drunken
frat party type tattoo?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not
exactly.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen
could see her prompt had not missed its mark, but there was something Rhys was
holding back.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Look. I haven’t run screaming in panic, tried to
douse you in holy water, or stab you with silver. Whatever it is probably won’t be too huge of
a shock anymore.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rhys
blew out a long breath, “The third was from a group who practiced a rather
rancid religion, not exactly one of the major world religions if you know what
I mean.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen nodded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“By the
way, none of that stuff you mentioned works to stop us.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The
silver, the holy water, et cetera. None
of that actually works. It’s part of the
werewolf lore that sprang up when the Romans wanted to control everything, but
could not control our kind.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Okay. Do the two have anything to do with each
other?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What? The crackpot zealots who forced the tattoo on
me and the Romans?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No. Other than both were attempting to dominate
the wolves.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No one
spoke for quite a while. The radio
played in the background, soft enough to be soothing but loud enough to provide
a distraction from talking.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How
did they keep you to tattoo you? And
what does the tattoo mean if you didn’t choose to have it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“There
are a few rare herbs that can drug us to sleep.
And the occasional wizard, for lack of a better way of describing them,
can conjure a spell strong enough to subdue us.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Which
one got you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The
herbs.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There
was something in the way Rhys gave his answer that told Jen there was more to
the story than just that. It also told
her that now was not the right time to be asking about it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The
tattoo is a mark of property. They
sought to control me through the herbs.
It didn’t work.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen
snorted, “Clearly.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ourwriteside.com/master-class-32/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQwxYAVxtoWRZ3vQV3c3Cf4bgJ0a20vFHM2X59L8ADeK-WCgrYTRmyePg6hNc0_4hrxq6bHAkGLM_kB65VGzV3XsmSjyn7kssVL3WC9fPeMvhEnL483Vmu8NiScRmMLkRkukZBYURcKE/s1600/Master+Class+Badge.png" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-11750828170506523012016-05-15T22:23:00.001-05:002016-05-15T22:23:53.683-05:00Studio 30 Plus: Problem SolvedYay! After several weeks of craziness, I finally just made myself write the Studio 30 Plus prompt this week. We got humiliating and/or ignominious. Here's the next part of the Weather Riders story. Be sure to check out other great responses over at Studio 30 Plus through the button below.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Then
let us hear the lagniappe you propose.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Let me
ask you this first. Have you used anyone
who was strong and healthy from your group to try to fix this?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edward’s
brow furrowed as he rubbed his chin and stared at the ground. Then he looked up at me and shook his
head. I went on before he could put
words to it. The words he’d use didn’t
matter.<br />
“I think that’s the
problem. The weather takes what is given
to it. The very atmosphere is influenced
by the smallest stimuli. I think that if
you repeat the ceremony with someone from here, it may work.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edward
and Micah looked abashed. Neither would
meet my eye. The silence drew out until I
began to fidget and stared at Caiden, begging him to do something about it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well,
this is humiliating. Edward and I have
been searching for an answer for more than a month now. We bring you here and within a couple hours
you see something we’ve missed all this time.
And you offer it as a bonus to the terms releasing you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
reddened a little, “I just didn’t want the children to die. They’ve lost enough already.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Then
the person we must use in the ceremony must be me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Micah
whipped around to stare at Edward, “Why??
There is no way we can sacrifice your powers. What will we have left?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What
will we have left if I do not, Micah?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Micah
looked away. The rider who’d accompanied
Caiden here signaled to Caiden he was leaving.
Caiden made a couple quick gestures that looked like some kind of sign
language. Then the rider took off,
careful to stir up as little dust as possible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I have
a dumb question as you two are still at odds over who should and should not
sacrifice himself for this.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What
is your query?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do you
have to give up all your powers? I mean,
what if you both gave up a little. Would
that be enough?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I do
not know. We have not tried what you
suggest. We have followed the old texts.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I hate
to break this up, but now that Shayna’s solved at least some of the problem
here, I am taking her and we are leaving.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edward
and Micah sketched slight bows toward me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We
appreciate your assistance. Do not
fear. You are free and will not be
harmed again by me or mine. Micah will
guide you back to the main highway.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Don’t
worry about it. We got here just
fine. We can find our way back without
help.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There
was something in Caiden’s tone that brooked no argument, and scared me. He did not like these people on a level that
went beyond a philosophical disagreement.
Venom lurked behind those words just waiting for the fool who prodded
enough to discover it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://studio30plus.com/page/prompts" target="_blank"><img src="http://api.ning.com/files/D8W76et1CicHYCUzNCEVHCi8Rt-53DmDY*upEr0sUiHrYiID4wADk20lLNLygj1OflEkxnFY87BWH0tR241Slx9MceCxUaXi/S30PBadge.jpg" /></a></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-45921487303405627332016-05-10T22:41:00.000-05:002016-05-10T22:41:10.310-05:00Don't Panic Picture Prompt: May 9thYeah. I know. I gaffed it again. I'm late getting this up. That just adds to the challenge, right? So, here's this week's picture prompt:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Viking: " src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/9c/b9/c5/9cb9c5dfd36b16c7e6f2dc964f6598d5.jpg" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This was a pendant pictured for sale</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
on Etsy.com by peteconder</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Rules are the same: 1-500 words connected somehow to the picture, due by Sunday, May 15th at 11:59 pm, link up or directly add your piece to the comments below.</div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-34875774215465875362016-05-04T21:54:00.001-05:002016-05-04T21:54:43.181-05:00#TuesFlashFicTrain: To be Rescued or Not to be RescuedI've been slacking a little with the <a href="https://fictiontrials.wordpress.com/category/tuesday-flash-fiction-train/tuesflashfictrain/" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple;">#TuesFlashFicTrain</span></a> prompt lately. So I made a point to hop back on board. Let me know what you think of my ending for Gloria's story. Follow the link to read the rest of her story.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Now what?</i> Gloria thought. She surveyed the items she’d grabbed from
storage, wracking her brain for any possible options. With the solitude shield, though, there weren’t
many.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Come on, Glo! Think outside the box!</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She
watched Tom get a self-satisfied grin on his face. He pushed the door open and ushered Manny
through. She slipped through the closing
door behind the men just in time, feeling the solitude shield catch in the door
a little before sliding free. Gloria
followed Manny and Tom down the corridor.
Just as she’d predicted, they stopped at the locked Security Office
door.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gloria
knew she had a little time now. That
door was protected by spells and conventional locks. She thought about just throwing off the
shield and casting the paralysis spell.
The saner part of her reminded the part that thought that was a good
idea Manny would beat her to the punch.
And he wouldn’t be nice about it either.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Faster
than she’d expected, they got the door open.
Once again, she trailed behind them just close enough to get through
without them noticing. They started to
rummage through the office. Gloria
thought it was odd that the office wasn’t staffed. That was a twenty-four-hour position.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Harvey!
That rat!</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then it
came to her. Don’t use magic. At least not how she’d been thinking about
it. She made her way to the recycling
bin next to the fax machine and crouched down, making sure to drape the
solitude shield over the can. Then she
crumpled up several sheets of paper from the can into balls. One by one she lit them on fire and tossed
them into the room.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With
their backs to where Gloria was hidden, the men didn’t see the slight movements
that revealed her. All they saw was
balls of fire come flying out of nowhere at them. Manny started a stunning spell as he scanned
the room for the attacker. Tom hid
behind Manny.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just
before Manny finished his spell, the smoke from the burning paper set of the
building’s sprinkler system. Gloria
prayed the solitude shield was waterproof so it wouldn’t give her away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
door flew open. Harvey and Mike, the
security officer burst into the room.
Harvey threw a powder at Manny with a final flourish. Manny went down hard. Mike did the same for Tom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Come
out Gloria. You’re safe now,” Harvey
said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don't forget - you still have time to join in the fun with the <a href="http://thisisnothitchhikersguide.blogspot.com/2016/05/dont-panic-picture-prompt-may-2.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple;">Don't Panic Picture Prompt</span></a>!</div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-72931367512356481662016-05-02T22:36:00.000-05:002016-05-02T22:36:19.552-05:00Don't Panic Picture Prompt: May 2I got one challenge taker last week, who happened to be my sister. Let's see what ya'll have got this week. Remember - 500 words or less, inspired by the picture, due by Sunday May 8th at 11:59 pm, relatively PG, and add your responses/blog links/social media links to the comments below. Who's up for the challenge?<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3EHZ8FqCsF3Ts44UWKrDY4_TJ0vt-K7B6zRfcyjFn9hjMIr556y1Dt8SJFQ4-uzqabmrmfSPSEbqfRZ2fP1roxqsxEqPV9oF3dyu8-tF_iEggG5ylb3w7ZVzX4sVsbH1CIv7fgGwzOI/s1600/DSC_0974.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3EHZ8FqCsF3Ts44UWKrDY4_TJ0vt-K7B6zRfcyjFn9hjMIr556y1Dt8SJFQ4-uzqabmrmfSPSEbqfRZ2fP1roxqsxEqPV9oF3dyu8-tF_iEggG5ylb3w7ZVzX4sVsbH1CIv7fgGwzOI/s640/DSC_0974.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A panorama of the New Orleans skyline from my trip in March</div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-15399725390112529152016-05-02T22:25:00.000-05:002016-05-02T22:25:28.210-05:00Random Sunday: Home Improvement Projects, Sprinklers, and NapsSo I'm a little late with this because I wrote it in my journal, but then fell asleep before I could actually post it yesterday. Without further excused or adieu, here's Random Sunday.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
There
is this rule with home improvement projects.
Those of you who do not own a house may not understand this. Trust me, though. It’s true.
No project can be completed without at least two trips to the local
hardware/home improvement store.
Yeah. Today was no
different. Two trips to get enough
materials to complete the edging for one of my new flower beds. I still need to get better soil to add as I
live on a sand plain. Literally. This project met that rule. Can’t wait to see how many trips it takes for
the next flower bed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Somewhat related – I was messing
with my lawn tractor water sprinkler today.
You know, the kind that slowly walks itself down the length of the hose
while it waters. I’d been having issues
with mine. Figured out today that it was
because I’d aimed the spinney arms wrong when I put it back together after we’d
moved last summer. I felt kinda stupid when
I figured that out. Especially when it
was illustrated on the sprinkler how to put it together so it worked
right. Yep. Works well once I fixed that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Naps.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I love them and I hate them.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">My son is hitting an age where I can’t
win.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">He gets cranky and tired fairly
early if I let him skip his nap.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">If I
force the issue, he’s a pain to get to go to sleep at night.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Why does it seem like such a Herculean task
to regulate one three-year-old’s sleep?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-3491201557873817862016-04-26T22:34:00.001-05:002016-04-26T22:34:33.928-05:00Don't Panic Picture Prompt: April 25thSilly me. I totally forgot to actually post this last night! We had three great stories that came out of last week's prompt. What can ya'll do with this one? Remember - 500 words or less, relatively PG, inspired by the picture, link up or add your story in the comments below, and due by Sunday, May 1st at 11:59 pm CST. Show me what you got!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWao5c4AhandjwI7dEy_YEpH5scKCgJNZcxrnAPNkkP4V0qyjMl68Lkwo1pGjQVSpDtT0bFyD5_IEL16eLvTT7zk5-JJipWY7Dkpr_YWd7xi8xdJrdnDjB-x1i4N7X2B1PsgvHBO2PaIY/s1600/DSC_0062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWao5c4AhandjwI7dEy_YEpH5scKCgJNZcxrnAPNkkP4V0qyjMl68Lkwo1pGjQVSpDtT0bFyD5_IEL16eLvTT7zk5-JJipWY7Dkpr_YWd7xi8xdJrdnDjB-x1i4N7X2B1PsgvHBO2PaIY/s400/DSC_0062.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was taken on a snowshoeing expedition with my family to Rice Lake State Park in January 2016</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-52206887880198249262016-04-24T23:49:00.001-05:002016-04-24T23:49:51.064-05:00Random Sunday - Musicals, Thunderstorms, and Mud<div class="MsoNormal">
My son was in a musical for church this Sunday. Now, keep in mind, he’s three years old. What I found particularly cute and funny was
his performance. He’d been practicing his
part of the musical for several weeks now.
Instead of going through it like I know he can, he stood up there
goofing around instead. Not naughty,
just looking around and waving and taking his shoes off and starting to pull
one arm out of the sleeve of his shirt and the like. It was great humor even though my son was the
only one up there doing it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love the rain. I
woke up early this morning to the sound of thunder rumbling around and it was
perfect. Not the dangerous storms where
damage and harm are done. This was the
kind of storm that you think of when you think spring showers. I love these storms where the thunder bounces
around the clouds and echoes in my body.
The lightning stays up in the clouds and illuminates the contours of the
darkened clouds. These are my favorite
storms and what I got to wake up to this morning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had an interesting adventure this weekend. My family and I love to go hiking and such in
the state parks. Well, we went to Moose
Lake State Park and did the Rolling Hills trail. Because it’s about a two-mile hike, we
brought my son’s jogging stroller along so he didn’t have to actually hike the
whole thing along with us. I discovered
that there were some low spots in the aptly named Rolling Hills Trail. These low spots also happened to be where
there were a number of trees with roots now exposed due to the water and
mud. This does not make for a good
combination with a stroller. Several
times it took two of us to get my son and his stroller through those
spots. I felt bad putting his stroller
back in my aunt’s brand new minivan. At
least the mud had mostly dried by then.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-617835464895090172016-04-24T23:33:00.000-05:002016-04-24T23:33:11.196-05:00Studio 30 Plus: The DealI haven't visited Studio 30 Plus lately and, with the first spring thunderstorm here, felt the need to revisit the Weather Riders serial. So, Studio 30 Plus gave us lagniappe or bonus this week. I kept it just under 1,000 words. Let me know what you think! Also be sure to check out other responses via the button below.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A
commotion rattled out in a quick staccato from the front. Edward and I cut around the corner, not
bothering to go back through that death laden house. Two motorcycle riders were just cutting the
engines of their mean looking bikes.
With the black leathers and matte helmets with tinted face shields, I
couldn’t even tell if they were male or female.
I presumed male simply because the bikes looked to be the kind men would
ride – big, heavy, powerful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“May I
help you?” Edward’s voice sounded too loud in the silence. His arms were crossed and he moved toward the
riders, blocking their way to the house.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
first rider reached up to remove the helmet.
In that instant before I saw the rider’s face, I knew it was
Caiden. I’m not sure if it was something
in the way he moved, or if I’d grown telepathic powers in the time since I was
abducted, but I was so certain it was him I staked my life on it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ran
past Edward. His arm shot out to block my
way, but I ducked under. I missed Micah,
though. He’d been angling behind the
bikers and managed to tackle me just short of my goal. Caiden.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Let. Her.
Go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d
never heard Caiden’s voice sound like that, not that I’d spent all that much
time with him. That tone was one I
generally put high on my “do not mess with that person when I hear that tone”
list. I also noticed in that moment that
the temperature was dropping. From my
position half twisted toward the sky I realized the sky had grown to an ominous
dark greenish yellow. Any good
Midwesterner knew that meant nasty storms and tornados.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I do
not know who you are, but you are on private property and I must ask you to
leave.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edward
was sealing his fate with that statement.
A bolt of lightning arced down to connect to the ground just a few yards
from where this vignette played out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I didn’t
offer an option. Let her go.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edward
stood for a few seconds studying Caiden and the other biker.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Let us
negotiate a deal. Her value to me is
greater than you can imagine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The way
he said that, I knew Edward was trying to angle for his little ceremony to go
off before he let me go.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Fine. Let us parley.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ah. The old terms.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I know
who you are,” Caiden hung his helmet from a hook on the rear of his bike and
swung his leg over, “Now. Let the lady
up. If you know the old ways, treat her
as she deserves.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Edward
ducked his head, “Touché. You have
caught me out. Micah, help her to her
feet please.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“But- “<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No,
Micah. It does not matter what she
did. A lady does not merit such
treatment.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Micah
helped me to my feet. I jerked my arm
away from him when he held it a little too long after I stood. Dusting the dirt and grass off, I watched as Edward
and Caiden bent their heads together to speak in low tones. After several minutes of this, Caiden
gestured to the other biker, who got off the bike and joined them, still
helmeted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tried
to inch my way closer to hear what was being said, but Micah stopped me, “That
is parley. It is not to be interrupted
or attended by any who are not leaders.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I am
my own leader, thank you very much,” I said trying once again to inch my way
closer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not
here you’re not.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
sighed and gave up. Micah would likely
call his crony in if I kept trying to push it.
So, I started to mull over the whole deadly illness issue Edward had abducted
me in an attempt to address. While I
didn’t know that much about Weather Riders and such, my parents were both
doctors and I knew a decent amount about illness.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Micah,
what happened to start the illness? Who
got sick first?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Micah
stared at me for a long moment saying nothing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Come
on! I’m trying to help here. That is why your boss kidnapped me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Abducted.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Whatever. Are you going to answer my question?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Micah
scrubbed his hands over his face, “There was an ancient ceremony. It was meant to bring an end to the drought
that’s been killing us as surely as this is.
But, there had to be a sacrifice.
Jana volunteered.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Wait a
minute. Ya’ll killed someone?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No!” Micah looked as if I’d slapped him. Hard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You
said you sacrificed someone.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sacrificed,
yes. Killed, no. Jana was ill.
Her powers were a burden to her, so she volunteered to sacrifice her
power in order to fuel the ceremony.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Then
what?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“People
started to get sick after that. We tried
the healing ceremony on our own first. Marcus
volunteered his power.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Was he
ill too?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No. Old.
Nearing the end of his time and he said he didn’t feel like he’d miss
the power.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An idea
was starting to form in my head of what may have been happening to these
people.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It
didn’t work, did it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“They
started to die. Even when we brought
outsiders here for the healing ceremony, it didn’t work.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Caiden,
Edward, and the biker gestured for us to join them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We’ve
struck a bargain for your release,” Edward said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Is it
a done deal?” that idea blossomed into a plan, “Or can I add a bonus to the
deal for not harming me?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A
lagniappe? That has not been done in
centuries.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Caiden
grabbed my elbow hard and whispered in my ear, “What the hell are you
doing? We need to get out of here!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I need
to save these people first. At least the
kids, and I think I might know how. Help
me!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Caiden
shook his head and let go of my arm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes. She is offering Lagniappe.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://studio30plus.com/page/prompts" target="_blank"><img src="http://api.ning.com/files/D8W76et1CicHYCUzNCEVHCi8Rt-53DmDY*upEr0sUiHrYiID4wADk20lLNLygj1OflEkxnFY87BWH0tR241Slx9MceCxUaXi/S30PBadge.jpg" /></a></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-85509581579789776622016-04-21T22:52:00.001-05:002016-04-21T22:52:49.061-05:00Master Class: The Hunt BeginsI took a little break from my normal White Wolves responses for Master Class this week because the prompt furthered a scene in a short story I'm working on so well. I do have to give a quick warning here. While the scene is totally PG, there is an oblique reference to child abuse. Just don't want anyone to get caught off guard. And, please, let me know if the way it is handled in this piece is problematic. I am hoping I've addressed it in a respectful and appropriate way, but it is a rough draft and I am certainly not perfect. <br />
<br />
Anyways, the one piece of background you need to know for this scene is that "She" is Juno/Demeter/Rhiannon. In other words, she who is known to be the protector of children. And my working title for the short story is "Karma Incarnate". Let me know what you think and be sure to check out other great responses over at Our Write Side via the button below.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> Perfect</i>, she
thought. That was the chance she
needed. Her work could truly begin. She insinuated herself utterly into his body,
her cells paired with his, her heart beat in perfect synchrony with his, her
mind enmeshed with his. His thoughts
made her furious and ill. That part
always did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the
basement, he sat down and buried his head in his hands. Thoughts, memories, feeling, and more
exploded chaotically. Regret, fear,
satisfaction. His own childhood
memories. Good and bad. Pictures.
Films. They paraded around his
mind until he was physically ill. He
sobbed. He laughed. He screamed into a pillow. He punched a hole in the wall without
noticing the cuts streaming blood down his arm as a result.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There
was a small part of her that wanted to feel sorry for him. She saw those memories, too. There was only one of her and so many more
evil-doers that chose to harm children in the world now. She got there and put a stop to it as quickly
as she could. Just like tonight. But it didn’t excuse what he did tonight, and
the much larger part of her felt no remorse for him. He had another choice. He chose wrong.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All the
while she hid in the back of his mind, in the deep recesses of his body,
pulling strings and pushing buttons.
Watching while all of his witty untruths crumbled into the blackened detritus
they were.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She
backed off and surrendered her influence when she sensed he was at his tipping
point. She didn’t want him to lose
it. That was the easy way out and he didn’t
deserve that. Not even close. He could have chosen another way.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ourwriteside.com/master-class-29/" target="_blank"><img alt="Master Class Featured Image" height="176" src="http://i2.wp.com/ourwriteside.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Master-Class-Featured-Image.jpg?resize=675%2C372" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
And you still have a few more days to link up with the <a href="http://thisisnothitchhikersguide.blogspot.com/2016/04/dont-panic-picture-prompt-april-18th.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple;">Don't Panic Picture Prompt</span></a> if you haven't yet! I dare ya to give it a try!</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-53067483127963447532016-04-19T09:19:00.002-05:002016-04-19T09:19:56.478-05:00Don't Panic Picture Prompt: April 18thSo, there was one person willing to take the Don't Panic Picture Prompt dare last week. Who is willing to take it this week? 1-500 words based on the picture below. Due by April 24th at 11:50 pm. Try to keep it relatively PG or at least put a warning on it if it may not be. Put your links or your response in the comments.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="the stories this big old paddleboat could tell. Abandoned but an odd beauty.: " src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/1c/9d/53/1c9d533533e94976a32de035ded8eb96.jpg" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
from http://www.skylerbrown.com/Albums/The_Modern_Error/pages/Mamie_S_Barrett.htm</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Let's see what you got!</div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-55371160651783113722016-04-17T22:13:00.000-05:002016-04-17T22:13:50.851-05:00Random Sunday - Sore Muscles, Bikes, and TaxesI got a Random Sunday up on time!!!<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ugh. Am I sore. Spent most of the weekend raking leaves up
off my flowers and such. 17 paper lawn
and leaf bags plus a large garbage can (think about 4 feet tall) later, my
leaves are all gone. Did most of it by myself
as well. My mom came and helped me with
the last 7 bags this morning. Then my
mom, my aunt, my son, and I went on a 3.75 mile walk. Yep. I’m
crazy. But it was fun. I’ll pay for it in the morning with sore
muscles. I can feel it already. I hope the chamomile tea works.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Okay, so this next thought is at least tangentially related
to my last one. At the moment, I hate
bike racks. You know the kind that strap
to the back of your car to help carry bikes to selected biking location? Yep. Those. Haven’t used ours in a couple years. So I can’t remember how it goes on my car, never
mind the fact that I have a completely different car from the last time I used
it. I’m really hoping my hubby can
figure it out. I want to go get my bike
from storage and start taking my son for rides in his trailer. Which will result in many more sore
muscles. Again, though, worth it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I particularly hated tax season this year. I generally dislike it because I hate doing
our taxes. It’s just such a pain in the
behind to sort out all of the various things needed by the respective
governments in order to file the taxes.
This year was particularly nightmarish because Minnesota chose not to
renew some of the tax break things that the Federal government did. This led to me having to recalculate some
things by hand. The instructions were so
much less than stellar it was crazy. I
ended up giving up and hoping I did it right because what I did was about the
best option I could come up with as a result of the poor instructions. Here’s to hoping I don’t get audited. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There's still time. Take the <a href="http://thisisnothitchhikersguide.blogspot.com/2016/04/dont-panic-picture-prompt-april-12th.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple;">Don't Panic Picture Prompt</span></a> dare!</div>
</div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-78539730631808616292016-04-15T22:42:00.000-05:002016-04-15T22:42:03.896-05:00#TuesFlashFicTrain: Unwanted AttentionIt's a bit last minute, but here's my response for the next part of Gloria's story from the current #TuesFlashFicTrain. Be sure to stop by <a href="https://fictiontrials.wordpress.com/2016/04/12/tuesflashfictrain-r4-w3/" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple;">Trials and Tribulations of Writing Fiction</span></a> to read the rest of Gloria's story and to vote on who's offering should continue the train!<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gloria
ducked into a co-worker’s cubicle.
Crawling beneath the desk, she realized it was Frank’s.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thank all that’s good I made it to Frank’s
cubicle. He’s careless enough to leave
his desk unlocked and lazy enough to leave materials in his desk.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gloria
eased the drawer closest to her open and rummaged around, praying all the while
Harvey wouldn’t hear her. She pulled out
the first container and pried it open.
Peanuts. Literally. No help there. The next container revealed potato
chips. Then chocolate-covered raisins.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Really, Frank? Do you really need this much junk food?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Moving
on to the next drawer, Gloria first pulled out a box of paperclips. Better, but not overly helpful yet. At least not unless she wanted to keep Harvey
close to her. Pencils and one dried out
highlighter were next. Then, in the back
of the drawer Gloria found a small wooden box.
She rolled it over several times, but in the dim lighting she couldn’t
find the opening.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Footsteps
came down the row. Gloria slid the drawer
shut and squeezed under the desk. She
whispered a few words to coax the shadows around her further, trying not to
breathe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Gloria! I know you’re here somewhere!” Harvey’s
sharp, nasal voice was a whisper in the still room, “Come out, Gloria! You know we need to talk!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He
stopped outside of Frank’s cubicle.
Gloria mouthed several more words and drew three tiny symbols on the
floor near her feet. Harvey’s head
turned. He started off, his footsteps
quick and loud on the polished cement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gloria
counted to ten and then crept out from under Frank’s desk. She peeked around the edges of the cubicle,
convinced no one would be looking for her head so near the floor. Seeing no one, she stood up and hurried
toward the far door.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gloria
walked into Harvey, smacking her nose into his thin shoulder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Gloria! There you are. You need to come with me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She
stood there a moment, blinking, unmoving.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well? What is it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Nothing. I just- “<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You
just what?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I was
surprised to see you. I was just on my
way out to grab lunch and then I was coming to see you,” Gloria begged the
powers that were to lend her words enough false charm to get Harvey to swallow
them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No
such luck. My office. Now.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gloria’s
heart sank. She was in for it now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You still have a little time to take the <a href="http://thisisnothitchhikersguide.blogspot.com/2016/04/dont-panic-picture-prompt-april-12th.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple;">Don't Panic Picture Prompt</span></a> dare! Come on! What have you got to lose!</div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-33060671704493857972016-04-12T23:01:00.000-05:002016-04-12T23:01:22.222-05:00Don't Panic Picture Prompt: April 12thI know. I'm really late. I have a good reason this time. I was super sick all weekend. While I am feeling better now, I'm just getting caught back up on things. So, this week I'll extend the deadline until Monday, April 18th at 6:00 pm CST. I should be able to get the next prompt up around then. Same rules apply. 1-500 words inspired by the picture below. Add your blog links or your work in the comments below. Thanks for not panicking!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt=" : " height="400" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/12/ee/1e/12ee1ee0ab22d9f7b485df1b4de54d46.jpg" width="313" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #333333; font-family: 'Proxima Nova', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 17px; font-weight: 600; line-height: 23px; text-align: start;">Associated Press photographer Muhammed Muheisen</span></div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-8661300452188281002016-04-08T23:32:00.001-05:002016-04-08T23:35:11.080-05:00#TuesFlashFicTrain: Quite the PredicamentGetting my #TuesdayFlashFictionTrain in just under the wire tonight. Which is fitting because I had to edit it down to make exactly 400 words and our prompt was about being productive. Here's my answer to the next part of Gloria's story. Head over to <a href="https://fictiontrials.wordpress.com/2016/04/05/tuesflashfictrain-r4-w2/" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple;">Trials and Tribulations of Writing Fiction</span></a> for the first part of Gloria's story as well as other responses to this part.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Gloria stopped to stretch out the kinks that had formed in her neck and shoulders from hunching over her desk for so long. Rolling her neck, she noticed the candles were mere stubs. She checked her watch. Not break time yet. She scanned down her list and realized she’d gotten most of it done already. <br />
Gloria double checked the queue in the computer. As usual, there were several additions. She printed off the new list and decided to grab some new candles from the supply closet. That way, she was all set to tackle the rest of the list after break. Hopefully that would see her through the end of her shift. Except for Harvey.<br />
She carefully secured her desk against accidental castings while she was gone and dug out the ancient key for the supply closet. Making her way down the rows of empty cubicles, Gloria thought she heard voices.<br />
“That’s unusual,” she said to herself, “There shouldn’t be anyone else in this department right now. Hell, there’s only a few other people in the entire building at the moment.”<br />
Gloria stopped at the supply closet and jiggled the decrepit lock open. She always loved coming here with the neat rows of ingredients in quantities she could only dream of in her personal supply cupboard. There were some rather special ingredients kept here as well, ones she knew she’d never have of her own. Gloria made her way to the candles and selected the necessary colors and sizes. As she approached the door, she heard the voices again, only much clearer this time.<br />
“Are you sure this is going to work?” A deep male voice asked.<br />
“There’s no one here to stop us,” a second, medium toned man answered.<br />
“What about Gloria? She’s in this section tonight.”<br />
“Harvey’s taking care of here. By the time we’re ready, we’ll be just fine.”<br />
The voices faded to unintelligible garble.<br />
“There’s no bloody way I’m meeting with Harvey tonight,” she whispered waiting to be sure the two men were really gone, “How am I going to get out of it this time?”<br />
Gloria headed back to her desk. Four rows away from her cubicle she spotted Harvey waiting there for her. His back was to her so he hadn’t realized she was there yet.<br />
Really! For the love of all, can’t I catch a break? Now what am I going to do?<br />
<div>
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<div>
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<div>
Stop by the <a href="http://thisisnothitchhikersguide.blogspot.com/2016/04/dont-panic-picture-prompt-april-4-2016.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple;">Don't Panic Picture Prompt</span></a> and take a shot! You have until Sunday April 10th before midnight.</div>
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dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-19784455933360637662016-04-04T21:13:00.000-05:002016-04-04T21:13:00.517-05:00Don't Panic Picture Prompt: April 4, 2016I had two great takers for last week's Don't Panic Picture Prompt! Let's see if we can beat that this week! Here's the new picture. Get linked up by Sunday April 10th at 11:59 pm. 500 words or so (I don't actually count). That's about it!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Futuristic: " src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/bf/7c/66/bf7c66d858e2a237eb91ef5181fb9d2e.jpg" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Found on Pinterest - pinned from Ratestogo.com</div>
dontpanic2011http://www.blogger.com/profile/03748395349482914590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5362433707008186716.post-38359627194033332302016-04-04T20:59:00.000-05:002016-04-04T20:59:09.691-05:00Master Class: DeterminationSo, by falling asleep with my son last night, I also didn't get my Master Class assignment done. So I combined last week's assignment with this week's assignment, and managed to work in 3 of the 6 prompts. I hope that gets me enough extra credit this week to make up for missing last week. If you've missed any of the previous pieces of the White Wolves story, <a href="http://thisisnothitchhikersguide.blogspot.com/p/the-white-wolves.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: purple;">click here</span></a> to catch up. Let me know what you think and be sure to stop by Our Write Side to check out other great assignments via their button below.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Recognizing
the look on Jen’s face, Rhys got up, checked to make sure the door to the bar
was locked, and disappeared into a backroom.
Presumably with Jeremy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen
remained at the table, frantically trying to process everything that had
happened since she first met Rhys such a short time ago. Thoughts chased around her head making a
bewildering crossing so complex that it rivaled the highway systems she’d seen
growing up out in L.A. Her thoughts kept
coming back to two things, though. Rage
at her ex for dragging her and Cullen into this insane world, and a growing
sense of panic for Cullen’s safety.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She jumped
when she saw Rhys standing at her table.
He’d seemed to appear out of nowhere for all the sound he had made.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Come
on. I’ll take you to your house so you
can get some things. Then I’ll get you
somewhere safe.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She didn’t
say anything. Just grabbed her small
purse and followed him out the door. She
paused when she saw Jeremy waiting in the truck Rhys was standing by.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Don’t
worry. Jeremy is one of mine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen still
hesitated. It wasn’t that she didn’t
trust Jeremy. Or Rhys. It was more that there was a sense of
finality to this. That if she went with
them, her life would be irrevocably changed.
The question was – would it be for better or for worse?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She took a
deep breath and climbed in the truck.
She needed to feel Cullen’s warm, wriggling little body in her
arms. She’d give anything to hear his
squeaky voice shout “Mommy” again. Part
of it was a selfish giving; she felt as if she’d shatter into a million pieces
without him. However, most of it was
that Cullen didn’t deserve this. What
two-year-old did? It wasn’t his fault he’d
been born to messed up parents. Come
whatever may, she was not going to quit until Cullen was safe with her once
again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When they
got back to her house, Rhys followed her in while Jeremy waited in the
truck. Rhys passed her to enter the
house first once the door was unlocked.
As he slipped past her, Jen noticed the blood and jagged tears in one
shoulder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Come
on. You need a new shirt and to clean up
your shoulder.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s fine,”
Rhys continued to search through the house unfazed by her observation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen made
her way through the house gathering up things into a backpack. She found Rhys waiting in the living
room. She tossed him a shirt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It was one
my ex left here. I used to use it for a
work shirt when I didn’t want to get anything of mine dirty. I think it should fit, though it may be a bit
tighter on you than it was my ex. He
wasn’t in as good of shape.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rhys caught
the shirt, “Where may I change?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“There’s a
bathroom right around the corner there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rhys was
back in less than a minute. The blood
was cleaned up and the torn shirt was balled up in one hand. Jen was right. The shirt was much closer fitting on
Rhys. It also revealed the edges of a
couple tattered tattoos on that shoulder.
Scars and scabs marred some of the intricate beauty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You ready?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen took a
deep breath, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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