Saturday, August 30, 2014
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Life Changing Times
At
one stage of my life, I became interested in writing poetry and I tried
different styles, hoping that I could pen my ideas with a true sense of feeling
that would be realized and appreciated by the reader. But, as happens with many
who sit to write poetry, I wasn’t truly happy with what I was creating and thus
gave it up.
I
had completely lost interest until I discovered a form of poetry called,
“Tanka”. It is a Japanese form of poetry and considered to be the original form
of the Japanese short poem. The Tanka consists of five units and follows a
certain pattern. That is, each unit is a line and each line follows a set
number of syllables. Tanka has 5 lines and a total of 31 syllables which are
written as follows: 5, 7, 5, 7, 7.
The
first three units make up the first section which is called the ‘kami-no-ku’
meaning the upper phrase. And the last two units make up the second section
which is called the ‘shimo-no-ku’ meaning the lower phrase. Nature was the foundation within the tanka
theme, but has since evolved into an “anything goes” style of writing. Tanka
was also the basis from which Haiku developed.
For
whatever reason, on my birthday, I decided to write some tanka in the original
and traditional format. I chose the theme – “Life Changing Times” and
incorporated the poems into three categories of the theme……the past; the
present; and the future. Each category consists of eight poems and each poem,
although connected within the category, is in fact, a complete poem within
itself that could stand on its own.
Life Changing Times
Window to Yesterday
Majestic mountains,
Aesthetic and enchanting,
Beckon the conquer,
Resist the ultimate quest,
Then feign their acquiescence
….
Drenching spring downpours
Glimmer in crystalline pools,
Quench the parched desert,
And transform the barren wild
Into a sublime bouquet
….
Fair ocean sunset
Painted with a master’s brush,
A boon from nature,
Gloriously breathtaking,
Etched life-long in witnessed
hearts
….
Filigree snowflakes
Abound with quietude,
Form a downy cloak,
And seductively snare all
In a pure white tapestry
….
Mighty regal waves
Thunder on the time-worn shore,
Stir my ardent heart,
Meld us as kindred spirits,
Then leave me deluged in awe
….
Whispers of daylight
Subdue the black horizon,
Announce the new dawn,
While wispy soft gray fingers
Nestle sleepy stars to bed
….
Antarctic tundras
Essential life-giving force
Grace the face of earth,
Spectacles from eons past,
Guardians of our future
….
Nature, pure and free,
Unique in our galaxy,
Unselfish partner,
Furnisher of enjoyment,
Breath for scientific minds
Chelle Munroe©
August 19, 2014
Sunday, August 3, 2014
The Envelope
Just
as Tina stepped from the office building to the sidewalk, she spotted her bus
pulling away from the curb and blending in with the traffic. If she hadn’t
stopped to use the ladies room she would have been on time. She checked her
watch and realized she was on time but the bus had come early. Now she would
have to wait half an hour for the next bus or walk three blocks to catch a bus
from there which would drop her off a little over a block away from where her
usual bus stopped.
She
started walking and felt a shiver from the cold wind that seemed to have picked
up. She turned her collar up and buttoned the top button on her coat. In the
middle of the second block, she spotted a man hunched down with his arms
wrapped across his chest to keep warm. He looked up at her and didn’t say a
word just nodded. The sadness in his eyes said it all and she shivered again
but not from the cold. At the corner coffee shop, she bought a large coffee and
a bagel. Before stepping back outside, she removed an envelope from her
briefcase and placed a twenty dollar bill inside and sealed it. Tina
backtracked to where the man was still squatting.
She
paused in front of him and when he looked up, she said, “I thought you might
enjoy this being as it is getting colder. It may help to keep you warm.”
She
then handed him the coffee and the bag with the bagel and the envelope.
“Thank
you,” he smiled weakly and took the items from her outstretched hands.
“You’re
welcome,” she replied and turned and walked away. On the next block, there were
two nuns in front of a small table with a sign on it that read, “Please help
the poor.”
She
started to walk past then stopped and reached into her pocket and pulled out
the two one dollar bills she had gotten in change at the coffee shop and
stuffed them into the slot in the locked box on the table.
The
nuns smiled, thanked her and in unison said, “May God bless you.”
Tina
turned and proceeded to the corner to wait for the bus along with a small
number of other people. The nuns’ words repeated themselves in her mind and she
thought about how she had stopped praying when her son Michael, not long after
his father died, moved out of the house and never contacted her again. She had
prayed incessantly asking God to return Michael to her to no avail. After the
fourth year, with her hopes diminished, she prayed less and less until she
finally prayed no more.
Turning
to look back toward the nuns, Tina noticed the man she had helped holding the
coffee and bagel out to someone in one of the doorways. A moment later, a small gray haired woman,
Tina hadn’t noticed, stepped from the doorway and took the coffee and bag. She
then reached out and touched his arm and he tenderly bent down and kissed her
head. The man then moved toward the table with the box for donations for the
poor and Tina watched him stuff the envelope she had given him in the slot,
before turning to disappear into the crowd.
Unable
to resist her curiosity, Tina hurried back to the table and asked the nuns,
“Do you know that man?”
“Do you know that man?”
Both
nuns smiled and the shorter of the two answered, “Yes, he’s an angel.”
“Thank
you,” was all Tina said and returned to the bus stop in time to catch the bus.
On the trip home, she couldn’t help thinking about the cliché the nun had used
to describe the man who had put the envelope in the box. Tina smiled. To the
nuns, she imagined that everyone who made a donation was an angel.
It
wasn’t until later that night when Tina was cuddled on the couch with her
afghan, drinking a hot cup of coffee that the day’s events struck her. The nuns
had been right. That man was an angel. Tina had bought him coffee and a bagel
from loose bills she had jammed in her pocket in the morning and the twenty
dollars she could well afford so the reality was that she only sacrificed what
was really not a sacrifice at all.
The
man, however, made the true sacrifice. He gave the coffee and bagel to a woman
he felt needed it more than he and the twenty dollars which would have been
enough to get a cheap bed for the night to be warm; he gave instead to those he
believed were needier. She sunk a little lower and shook her head. From the
time she had gotten on the bus to just a few minutes before, she had praised
herself for the kindness she had shown. She had patted herself on the
back. But now she realized her actions
paled in comparison to the selfless generosity that man showed toward others.
He gave without so much as wanting praise or a pat on the back. He gave from
his heart not his wallet. He gave his all and gave it willingly.
Tina
turned her head and looked toward the fireplace and spotted the small crucifix
hanging above the mantel. She shivered. Maybe, just maybe, she had been in the
presence of a real angel. She shrugged her shoulders, finished her coffee and
went to bed.
The
next morning when Tina went to work, she looked to see if she could see the man
but he was nowhere in sight. The nuns at the table were different than the nuns
who was there the day before. Tina’s day passed without incident and again, on
the way home, she looked to see if she could spot the man with the sad eyes,
but as in the morning, she failed to do so.
That
night, while in her favorite spot on the couch, only this time with a glass of
wine, the phone rang. She looked at the number and not recognizing it figured
it would be a telemarketer.
“Hello,”
she said with an attitude.
The
person on the other end cleared their throat before saying, “Mom?”
Tina
sat up straight. “Michael? Is it really you?”
“Can
I come home?”
Tina
choked back the tears in her eyes and the lump forming in her throat.
“Mmmi…Michael, yes, yes, yes you can come home! Where are you?”
“I’ll
be there in five minutes,” Michael answered and hung up.
Tina
sprang from the couch and starting pacing. “Oh my God. Oh my God,” was all she
was capable of saying at the moment.
The
doorbell rang and she jumped. Tina took deep breaths trying to exhale slowly in
an effort to maintain her composure as she practically ran to the door and
pulled it open. Michael stood for a moment before entering the house.
As
soon as the door was closed, Tina threw her arms around him and cried
uncontrollably. Moments later, Michael cried with her. They remained like that
for a number of minutes. Tina pulled back and studied him. He was older but he
looked great. A thousand questions raced through her mind but she forced
herself not to pepper him with them and not to put pressure on him to explain.
He was home and that was all that mattered.
She
made him a coffee and some toast with butter and grape jelly, a favorite of his
when he was living at home. She sat across from him and waited patiently for
him to share what he wanted to talk about.
After
his second slice of toast, Michael looked at her and said, “The strangest thing
happened a couple days ago. I was thinking of you and home and feeling like I
wanted to be here so I got on a bus and was on my way when sometime during the
trip I fell asleep and someone stole what little money I had in my duffel bag.
I didn’t know it until I got to the next bus terminal and couldn’t buy a ticket.
“I
figured I would just have to hitch-hike the rest of the way. I didn’t even have
enough money to buy a coffee and had to ask a couple people for some change. It
was rather embarrassing. While I was there, this guy came up to me and handed
me an envelope and walked away. At first, I thought he was one of those Jesus
freaks you always hear about lurking around the bus or train stations, but when
I opened the envelope, there was a twenty dollar bill in it.”
Tina
buried her face in her hands and burst out crying. Michael didn’t have to
describe the man or say anymore because she knew in her heart he was the man
she had given the envelope to; the one the nuns called an angel.
Michael
moved to her and put his arms around her shoulders. “Mom, are you okay? Did I
say something wrong?”
With
tear-stained cheeks she glanced up at him and said, “No Honey, you didn’t say
anything wrong at all. You said the perfect thing. Thanks to an Angel, I have
my faith and you back in my home and heart again.”
Chelle Munroe©
August 3, 2014
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
I Smell
I smell the salt air
Blowing in from the sea
It’s clean and refreshing
And very relaxing to me
I smell the green grass
Growing in the field nearby
Its newness strengthened
From the sun up in the sky
I smell the fragrance of Spring
Flowers coming into bloom
And vision how wonderfully
They beautify my room
I smell hamburgers
Cooking on the grill
My mouth watering
Eager to get my fill
I smell the gentleness
Of dew upon the lawn
Its life-giving moisture
Greets the new day morn
I smell the crisp night air
And feel my nostrils swell
Then gazing up to heaven
Thank God for the gift of smell
Chelle Munroe©
July 16, 2014
Sunday, July 6, 2014
A New Life
There was standing room only in the
Great Hall and the cacophony of noise emanating from the arguing going on
inside was enough to make a deaf person block his ears. The controversy had
been going on for years with half the community believing one thing and the
other half of the community believing just the opposite.
The two sides had never waivered in
their positions regardless of the evidence presented to support each one’s
point. But all of that took place during the reign of Corsnuk. Some say that it
was because he really didn’t care while others argued that it was because he
was old and weak and just couldn’t cope with making the strong decisions.
Whatever the reason, Corsnuk was now dead and Palgris was now the Chieftain of
all the clans.
Palgris was considered by all to be
honest, fair and committed to the whole community, not just a few. Palgris was
also the youngest Troll to have ever been elected to the leadership. He had
wisdom beyond his years and everyone liked him. Even his enemies, if they could
be called as such, liked him and trusted his judgment. Palgris favored no one
in particular because he staunchly believed that the only way the Troll
community could survive was to become one….to be fully united, lest the demise
and eventual extinction of the Trolls would be inevitable.
Palgris entered the room and walked
to the middle of the stage where he took his place in the Chieftain’s chair.
Goltek slammed the gavel down with a mighty force and called the conference to
order. Amazingly, the attendees in the room and those standing outside the
building ceased their conversations. The din was replaced with eager silence as
they waited for Palgris to address them.
Before Palgris stood up, one of his
aides brought a basin of water, a bar of soap and a towel. Palgris took the
soap and dipped his hands into the water and scrubbed them. As soon as Palgris was
finished drying his hands, the aide left the stage. Palgris rose and moved to
the lectern where he took a moment to peruse the crowd gathered. He felt proud
that so many had come to hear what he had to say. He was also moved that so
many trusted, believed and counted on him to lead the way to a new era.
He squared his shoulders. “Good
evening and welcome. I thank you all for taking the time to come here tonight.
Some of the things I will talk about will undoubtedly shake you to your core
and many will disagree with me. But I am totally confident that once I finish
explaining to you the reasons for my position, you will have a change of heart
and support me for I have one and only one intention…..that is, to save our
community and to unite us all once and for all.”
The room erupted with a loud
applause. Palgris let it go on for a moment before raising his hand to silence
them once again. When he spoke again, his voice was like velvet, smooth and
soft and rich.
“We all know that our children are
the most precious gifts we have and that we must find the way to protect them
so they may grow and become strong able adults. We cannot do this with the way things
are…..we have all seen the results of the carelessness and laziness that has
plagued us for these past numbers of years. We can no longer be complacent and
ashamed of who we are and what we stand for. Many of you have argued that we
should take up arms and I say “No”. I strongly advise against it because to do
so would only make us like the humans who claim us to be uncivilized and unable
to live in a societal world with civility and wisdom.”
“And how do you propose to overcome
that?” someone yelled out from the back of the room.
Palgris paused before answering to
let the silence have its effects. He looked at all the faces staring at him
with eager curiosity, knowing that the wrong word would cause disruption that
would end the night and the chance to succeed.
“It is my contention that we must
educate our children in the human ways. We…..”
The room filled with boos and hisses
cutting off his words. He waited for them to calm before continuing on. “I am
telling you that if we are to survive in this world, we must educate the young
so that they can go into the world as our emissaries and ambassadors. They must
know the world they will be forced to live in and it is better that they are
prepared. Otherwise, they will face annihilation at the hands of those bigots
who live within the human society.”
Just then a paper airplane flew from
the crowd and landed at his feet. He casually picked it up and held it up for
all to see. “Just as this plane has taken flight and come to the end of its
journey, are we as the Troll Society of the world to do the same? Are we to
continuously flee from one area to another? To take flight until we can no
longer find a place and thus end our journey and become extinct like so many of
the creatures of this world that have done so for millenniums before us?”
Palgris took a sip of water and
continued. “We have been a proud race of beings in spite of having been labeled
as the scum of the Earth. With the exception of these past years, we have
always been a harmonious race living without bigotry or prejudice. We have
embraced everyone on an equal basis and loved each other with complete
sincerity of heart. We possess no need for greed, or lust nor need to be
disloyal, dishonest, or untrustworthy because we all know that there is not one
of us, including myself, who is better than the other. We are Trolls each and every
one of us and I beg you now as your Chieftain to make the most brilliant
decision of your life and to give your children the greatest gift of all: the
pure knowledge to succeed and survive and to show the world our superiority of
love for all.”
“Thank you.”
There was no reaction from anyone at first but
then, after a moment, one by one everyone stood up and clapped. There were many
hoots and whistles and then the room exploded with shouts of “Palgris!
Palgris!”
As Palgris stood looking out at his
people, hearing them shouting his name and listening to their unity and support
for his idea, a tear trickled down his cheek for he knew deep in his heart his
children would have a new chance, a new life.
Chelle
Munroe ©
July
6, 2014
Monday, June 30, 2014
Now This is Living
It wasn’t a special occasion but just another routine
morning and I was looking forward to the day ahead. I was in my usual place
waiting for Tom to come in for his usual morning coffee, toasted bagel and me,
the “Metro News Morning Edition”.
As always, at that time of the morning, the coffee shop was
bustling with customers and servers and would probably appear to be a real
helter skelter scene for someone not used to such activity. Although I must
admit that there were plenty of moments when I thought there was no one there
who knew what they were doing and only got the orders straight by chance. I can
say this because I had been a regular there for five years, that’s when Tom
first started coming into the coffee shop and placed an order for the paper to
be there each morning with his coffee. I was the lucky one who was assigned to
bring him the daily news.
Tom and I had a great relationship. He always sat inside
the shop drinking his coffee, eating his bagel and perusing my pages. I made a
concerted effort to always be neat, in order and clearly printed so that he
would have an easy time enjoying the read. When he finished with his meal, he
would always make certain my pages were in place and then neatly folded me up
and carried me under his arm to his office. In those five years, I never felt
unsecure being carried to the office because he always made it a point to
protect me from the wind, rain or snow. I never thought for a moment that it
could be better than that and that my existence had real meaning; that is,
until that very morning when everything changed.
But just a little note before I go on because I can see
some of the puzzled looks on your faces, wondering how a newspaper can be the
same one day after day. It’s like this, even though the news changes from day
to day, the character of that particular paper is permanently embedded in the
press so that each day when the paper is printed, that character gets stamped
onto the paper and carries out its duty. It’s the character or personality of
the paper that people get attached to and enjoy when they pick the paper up to
read it everyday. Now I know that seems a bit far-fetched and a stretch of the
imagination but trust me, it’s exactly how it is. Now that you have learned
another lesson of life, let me continue the story.
On the particular morning I mentioned at the beginning of
the story, Tom seemed to be in an extra hurry and somewhat out of sorts about
things because he really didn’t spend much time reading me. My suspicions were also
confirmed by the way he just quickly folded me up without so much as taking a
few seconds to straighten out my pages. Then, on the way to the office, he
discarded me into one of those wire mesh trash baskets. I watched him walk away
and wondered if I would ever see him again.
Not long after he had thrown me away, someone plopped a
Styrofoam coffee cup on top of me and I felt the warm liquid spilling out onto
the bottom of my pages. Normally, I would have been disgusted by the stains the
coffee was making but the weather was turning colder and to be quite honest, I
rather enjoyed being warmed by the coffee. The rest of the day went by without
further incidence and I knew that come midnight, I would be history, which kind
of saddened me because I felt my day had been wasted and that I had been of
little use to anyone. Yes, I know, I know, my character would be reborn the
following morning but it was still a somber thought to know I had served no
fulfilling purpose on that day.
Resigning myself to the cold and loneliness, I made peace
with myself knowing that I had done all I could to be meaningful in Tom’s life
and that my present predicament was not one of choice. My situation was solely
caused by Tom’s decision to discard me in that manner. Oddly enough, that is
something I had heard from other papers about their owners and never in a
million editions had I ever thought it would happen to me.
I’m not sure what time of night it was only that it had to
have been before midnight; I felt a trembling hand pick me up and carry me
away. There were no streetlamps on so I had no idea who had chosen to snatch me
from the wire basket. We traveled a bit of a distance and then the scenery
changed from the openness of the street to the closeness of buildings on both sides.
It finally came to me that we were in an alley. I knew that from the number of
stories that had been printed in my pages about such places.
I didn’t know whether to be frightened or happy because
most of the stories were never good ones. From what I could remember, the
alleys contained many mean, dirty, and despicable characters. Lots of murders
took place in the alleys and I didn’t want to find myself ending up on a
corpse. The thought of it made my pages flutter.
The person carrying me came to a stop and slowly laid out
some of my pages on the ground. It was then that I recognized it was a woman
who had brought me here. She undid her coat and removed two of my pages, placed
them inside her clothing and wrapped them around her body. Once that was finished,
she took two more sheets, wrapped them around her clothing and pulled her coat
over them. She carefully folded the rest of my pages up and placed them in her
coat pocket.
The temperature dropped even more and I could feel the
woman shivering a bit in spite of the protection she had taken to warm herself.
No sooner had I finished these thoughts that she got up on her elbows, pulled a
couple pages from her pocket and struck a lighter to them. The fire glowed in
the darkness and I could see her face and was immensely saddened by the way she
appeared and the suffering I knew she had to have endured each day.
It was strange to think that I could feel the sadness for
her yet not feel any pain from my burning pages. I noticed she had placed some
small sticks on the flames and before I knew it, she had a small fire burning
where she proceeded to warm her hands and fingers. During the night, she
repeated pulling a couple pages at a time from her pocket, crumpling them up
and putting them on the fire along with some sticks, each time laying her head
on her arms and warming her hands before stuffing them inside her coat.
Morning came and the sun was shining. It was still bitterly
cold but warming just a tad as the sun drew higher in the sky. Because the
woman had placed those four sheets of mine inside her clothes and coat, I had
survived the night as she had. Even with missing pages, I was jubilant because I
had served a most meaningful purpose. I had saved a life! I never saw Tom again
and often wondered what might have happened to him. I still haven’t been
assigned another regular. More often than not, I get scattered here there and
everywhere and quite abused, but I don’t mind because I’m always hopeful I’ll
find someone who will need me in a more meaningful way. And you thought
newspapers had no life.
Chelle Munroe©
July 6, 2014
Sunday, June 22, 2014
The Trip
Part Ten
They
entered a brightly lit room and Melinda spotted three chairs on a platform, the
middle one raised above the others. Tulkoy was seated in that one and a woman
sat in the one to her left. The Overseer released her arm and took his place in
the chair to Tulkoy’s right.
No
one spoke for a minute or two and Melinda could hear people shuffling behind
her, no doubt blocking the doorways to keep her from trying to escape.
Tulkoy
motioned to Melinda. “Have you made your decision?”
Melinda
worked her tongue and jaws hoping to get some moisture in her mouth. Finally,
she answered, “I have.”
Tulkoy
gave a look of disgust that she would have to belittle herself to ask another
question. Of course, that attitude would be rectified once Melinda was part of
the Dalkum. “Your decision?”
“My
decision is, ‘No, I will not join the Dalkum’.”
Tulkoy’s
face didn’t reflect the shock over Melinda’s decision. She was certain her
sister would have joined them, but now had to hand down her verdict and thus
kept her composure. “It is my duty as the Polcara to inform you that because of
your refusal to become part of our family, you leave me no choice but to
sentence you to be sacrificed to the Two Moons.”
Before
she could react, Melinda felt a stinging in her neck and knew she had been
given another needle. This time, however, the drug didn’t sedate her, but made
her compliant and mellow. She could hear words being spoken but with her mind
reeling, she was unable to discern what was being said. Someone took her arm
and led her from the room where she was ordered to strip off her clothes. She
was given some new clothes to wear. One of the garments was a dress or some sort
of ceremonial gown. She couldn’t help but think how beautiful it looked and
reveled that she was thin enough with just the body shape to accentuate the
dress in all the right places. They placed slippers on her feet and she was
escorted back into the main room.
She
was led to the same place in front of the platform and when Melinda glanced up,
she noticed that Tulkoy had changed into another outfit as well. It was black
with various colors and designs sewn into the fabric. On Tulkoy’s head was some
sort of tiara but Melinda couldn’t quite make out the symbol in the middle of
it. In her hand, Tulkoy held a staff with a small head of an animal baring its
teeth.
A
mental picture of a polecat entered Melinda’s mind and when she went to say it
out loud, she slurred, “pawlcl,” and laughed.
Tulkoy
stood up and began talking about the Two Moons, but Melinda’s mind drifted in
and out of a fog and didn’t comprehend all of what Tulkoy was saying.
A
commotion broke out behind her and the two women who were holding her arms let
go and Melinda slumped to a sitting position on the floor. People were yelling
and there were some scuffles and objects clanking on the floor but Melinda
couldn’t stay focused long enough to discern what was taking place. She wanted
to close her eyes and sleep.
Just
as she shut her eyes, someone pulled her to her feet. She scanned the room and
saw funny looking creatures with big black heads and wondered if they were
coming to sacrifice her and eat her body.
One
of the creatures came toward her and spoke. “Are you okay, Miss?”
Melinda
closed her eyes and opened them again. It took a moment before it registered
they were policemen and she saw the large S.W.A.T. letters on the backs of
their uniforms.
The
officer spoke again. “I’m Captain Molinski, I’m with the…..”
Melinda
held up her hand and forced herself to speak slowly and as clearly as possible.
“You…got…..mmmmy…..mmmmessage!”
Captain
Molinski thought for a moment then replied, “Actually, no, we didn’t get your
message. We only heard a partial word and the number never registered where it
had originated.”
Her
questioning expression caused him to further explain. “The call came from a
different person.”
Before
Melinda could say more, she spotted other policemen bringing Tulkoy down from
the platform.
She
pointed her finger. “Stop.”
Captain
Molinski turned and said, “Hold up a minute.”
With
the help of the person supporting her, Melinda moved over to Tulkoy. Without
saying a word, she slapped her hard.
Captain
Molinski motioned with his head and the other officers led Tulkoy away. He
turned back to Melinda. “C’mon Miss we need to get you to the hospital.”
On
the way out, Melinda observed a number of people being led out of the vault by
the police. From the corner of her eye, she spotted the Overseer surrounded by
a number of officers and had all she could do to keep her anger contained.
Outside,
she breathed the cool night air deeply into her lungs and was thankful the
ordeal was over. EMT’s were waiting with a stretcher and carried her out of the
woods to the ambulance. A thousand questions still lingered in her mind but she
brushed them aside. There would be time enough to find out the answers once she
was back home. She closed her eyes and drifted into the darkness.
Three
months later, after having taken care of Angie’s affairs and closing up the
house, Melinda was thrilled to be back in her own apartment. Luckily, she had
suffered no major physical damage, or any neurological problems from the drugs
she had been given. Emotionally, she was still having difficulty overcoming the
trauma she had experienced and the shock over what Angie had become and was
willing to do to her because she had not accepted membership into the Dalkum.
Even
though her nightmares were less frequent, Melinda knew there would be more
emotional uprisings as Angie’s trial date came closer. She was determined to go
through with testifying, not so much out of anger, but so that no one else
would be hurt the way she and others had been.
The
doorbell rang. She went to the door, looked through the peephole, unlocked the
chain and opened it.
“Hello,”
she said and stepped aside. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“Hello,
these are for you,” Tom Bennert said and handed flowers to Melinda.
She stood on tiptoes, leaned in and kissed
him on the cheek. “Thank you Overseer for having saved my life.”
May 1, 2014
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