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The Last Letter | Face of FearThe pain in my shoulder subsided quickly after I got walking. Or Maybe I was just better able to take my mind off of it while on the move. Either way, I was sure it wasn't seriously damaged. Probably bruised at the worst. Thank goodness.
I soon discovered that I could not read the two pages Andrew had left behind. The dark, angry clouds were beginning to totally blot out the sky, making twilight seem a lot more like the dead of night. And trying to read them by the odd flash of lightning was also out of the question, especially with the dense tree canopy above me. I would need firelight. Candlelight, to be more specific. Thus, I had to head home. Mother was probably starting to cook dinner now anyway.
I had no trouble navigating the woods. I knew the way back to town by heart. I must have been lost in thought figuring out Andrew's next move, because before I knew it, I was already at the cobblestone main street that runs through the center of town. The name isn't Main Street, though; i
A Play on WordsA Play on Words
By Loyal Scarlet
Just south of the U.S.-Canada border, on a deserted, two-lane highway in the woods, a lone SUV travels north in the fading daylight. Dark clouds covering the sky make the evening seem later than it actually is. The vehicle is currently occupied by four people, two male, and two female, yet when the occupants initially set out on their journey, they left with only three. We set the stage with an innocent situation about to take a turn for the worse.
Blake Sarsky: A small town police officer. He was invited to join his best friend on one of his frequent trips to Canada, and took him up on his offer. In return, he suggested that they use his nice big SUV, which has plenty of room for the extra people and luggage, and also insisted that he take the first shift of driving. They've been on the road for a few hours now.
Jason Fischer: Blake Sarsky's bilingual best friend. He has fa
The Last Letter | Message in a BottleBooooooooooom.
This is going to be a bad one, I mused to myself.
I gazed out at the gray expanse before me. The sky was dark with storm clouds ready to release their deluge. The ocean waves 25 feet below me were already beginning to look choppy, even though the storm was still many miles away from the coast. The wind was picking up already too, threatening to blow my skinny 13-year-old body backwards against the rocks. But I planted my feet and held my ground against the onslaught.
"Wouldn't want to be sailing in this," Andrew voiced aloud. Although he was the same age as me, he was already stockier, and had no trouble standing, as if it were only a gentle sea breeze buffeting him.
"You aren't kidding," I said. There was a flash of lightning in the distance, followed by a long pause and another low rumbling of thunder. Definitely a bad one.
I gazed at the choppy waters, mesmerized by their ebb and flow. Suddenly, a glint caught my eye, lit by another flash in the d
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More