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"Abyss Sand Art" by Stephen Morsch

Anatidaephobia

by Cody Haupt

            Trent Evans. A typical man at the age of 38. Trent had a dreamy wife, wonderful job, and an expensive car. He lived life with no regrets, until it happened. He was stuck with severe paranoia. The following events are true. This is his story.

*****

            It was a warm, mid summer afternoon. Trent strolled to his Lexus, which had been parked about 40 feet from where he worked. He didn’t like parking in the company parking lot, even though he had his own executive spot.  He always felt as if someone would damage his car in the slightest way. Trent was the president of Duckie™, a company which specialized in everything duck, from paintings, to wooden models, and to the more recently added, stuffed ducks. It was Trent’s idea to start the production of stuffed ducks, mainly because he hated ducks, the living breathing kind. He would rather see them stuffed, sitting upon someone’s coffee table, rather that swimming gracefully in a pond.

            Approaching his car, Trent stopped dead in his tracks. He saw what looked like a duck, staring at him. He had been about five feet from his car, and was in front view of it. The duck was inside of his car, sitting on the dashboard. Trent rubbed his eyes. It was gone. He laughed and thought it was just his mind playing a trick on him, that he had a long day of work. He opened the door, started the car, and began to drive home.

            While he was driving, he unloosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. He had the drivers’ side window open all the way, as well as the two back windows. His arm was waving in sync with the rhythm if the song playing on the radio. He was happier than he usually was, for his pay had gone up since the introduction of the stuffed ducks. He was exceeding the speed limit by seven miles per hour. His cell phone rang. Turning off the radio, he hit the send button on his ear piece that was connected to his cell.

            “Hello?” Trent answered.

            “Hi honey.” It was his wife.

            “Oh, hi. I should be home in a couple of minutes. Is there something you need?” questioned Trent.

            “I called you to tell you that we are all out of envelopes. I need to…” she was interrupted by static. There was a faint noise that Trent made out to be… well… a quack.

            “Did you hear that..?” asked Trent, with a tone of puzzlement in his voice. He was almost certain he really did hear a quack.

            “Hear what?” his wife responded.

            “Never mind. There’s a cop, I’ll have to call you back.” With that, he hung up, revealing the loud sirens of the police car that was trailing him. He pulled over. The police officer came to the car.

            “License and registration, please.”

            “Is there something wrong officer?” Trent was nervous.

            “You were swerving all over the road… Would you mind stepping out of the car please?”

            “Officer, you don’t understand. I was only trying to avoid hitting the du…” Trent processed through his mind what happened. While he was talking on the phone to his wife, he thought he saw ducks crossing the road, here and there. At the time, he thought nothing of it. “The ducks, officer. Did you see them?” Trent was starting to worry even more, that maybe he was dreaming, or maybe he really was drunk, as the officer probably thought he was. He couldn’t remember going to sleep, or to a bar.

            “Sir, just step out of the car.” The officer was becoming impatient. After the breath test which proved that he indeed was not drunk, he was given a warning. Trent proceeded to drive home.

            It had been about 5 hours since the run in with the cop. He and his wife were now asleep in their bed. The room was silent, and then there was a whisper. Quack. Trent’s eyes immediately opened. He thought he had dreamed it, because his wife was still asleep. The quack grew louder and louder. Quack! Quack! Quack!

            “Just STOP!” The room fell silent once more. His wife woke up.

            “Honey, what’s wrong?”

            “Don’t worry about it. Go back to…. AH!!!” Trent gave out a high pitched scream, like that of a teenage girl. When he looked at his wife, instead of a beautiful being lying next to him, there was an ugly, red-eyed, feathery duck standing on his wife’s pillow. Not hesitating one moment, he jumped out of bed, almost tripped while running down the stairs, grabbed his keys, and ran out the door, leaving it wide open. He heard his wife beckoning him to come back. Frantically backing out of the driveway, he sped down the street. Everywhere he looked, he saw nothing but ducks.

            “Stop it!” he said aloud to himself. “You’re paranoid.” His car came to a halt. In the middle of the deserted road that he was now down, he saw a woman standing the opposite way of him. From the back, it looked like his wife. He got out of the car and slowly walked towards her. “Honey… is that you?” The woman turned around, and instead of a human face, she had the face of a duck, beak and all. “AH!!!”

            Three days later, Trent’s body was found in a near by pond. The coroner, later determined that he was pecked to death. A note had been found pinned to a tree not far from the body. It read this:

            Anatidaephobia- The fear that somewhere, somehow, a duck is watching you.

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2008 Fall Fiction Contest

Honorable Mention

Illusions

by Ryan Vogt

             My conscious hours tend to be long, where, as a philosophical traveler I suffer the hardship of those who have walked the common ground before me. I try not to notice, because I am self-assured. But even I need sleep, and when I try, it's odd, that long thin tunnel that suddenly opens, like a malleable straw, that I can push my head through, a shoulder, pull forward with a strong grip and straining arms and wriggle about until I am wedged inside to get a better view.  A portal? Maybe.  I'm no judge, but as I look down the corridor, I see a flash.  A hundredth of a second? Who can say?  But it's equally odd how I capture the scene, know its similarity, and yet, it seems an altered product of utter imagination. Try it. Let yourself be tired, go to bed. Lie there, quiet, attempt to think of nothing, be empty, and the hole will open allow yourself to squirm inside and you’ll see the spark. Yes, you'll see it, that momentary burst, that familiar, but altered recognition. Is it an essence, or just an adapted vision? It's so alien yet, as I said, familiar. It mocks what I know, shames what I believe. Its points are defined; it straightens like one dragging an end of a curve. It turns, becomes dimensional and then just as I am about to, to what? Make sense of it? It is gone. Try it, tell me what you see. This flash I really cannot explain beyond my simple means though it has a strange, unique feel, it's something unusual, foreign, unknown, something I have never encountered, a thing very different from any and everything I know and sitting here writing this, I know it's absurd, it's nothing but a figment of my imagination, and yet, it feels so real. Still, I'm a logical fellow and trust to my understanding in life.  I mean, I am a philosophical fellow, right? Still I wonder what does this flash really mean?

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2008 Fall Fiction Contest

Honorable Mention

The Light

by Stephen Morsch

The black abyss from hell surrounded me like a moth in a cocoon. I have been trapped in this pit of nothingness for months surrounded in a coating in which I could do nothing but kick.  I am in here by myself this whole time without a noise except for the ringing of nothingness vibrating off my ears, my claustrophobia rising to a point so high that I am no longer in fear. The only thing I can do is cradle myself thinking of how to escape or how I can possibly kill myself to release me from this hell. But today is different somehow. Today I can feel a faint whisper of wind slip through the tips of my fingers, on and off every five minutes for hours. But I can feel it more and more and the time I feel the whisper comes quicker and quicker. I can now feel the wind gently caress my face. I think today can be the day I escape.

As soon as that thought crosses my mind, the barrier that had held me for these long and lonesome months opens. A small hole the size of my hand is at my feet. My heart begins to pound. Now I know I can escape. I take my feet and kick at the hole. It breaks open more and more until I have enough room to crawl out of it. I stand up to see nothing but darkness again. I turn around to see what I had been trapped in this whole time. But it is so black I cannot see it lying before me.

I suddenly feel a trickling down my body. I look down to see, what I believe to be water. When I look up a blinding light shears through my eyes making them squint at the sight. I hold my arm up to help block the light burning my eyes but as I look down I realize I am in the nude. I see that the light has more than one color ranging from red to blue from green to purple. All of the colors of the rainbow were reflecting off my naked body. I see the lights reflecting off the water pouring down my body. I look up to see where it’s coming from, but it is just the blackness of nothing above me. The water seemed to come from no where. I try and walk out of the way of the water, but no matter where I would go, it would follow. When my eyes finally adjust to the bright lights from what seemed to come out of nowhere, I begin to run towards the light with the thought of escape tumbling in my mind.

But panic strikes me as two gigantic white hands move their way from the light to me! I begin to run away from the white hands as they hover their way to me blocking most of the light. Running away from these hands I hear a loud scream that breaks the silence of nothing and pierces my ears. I stop right there in my tracks to cover my ears from these horrendous screams of bloody murder. I turn around to try and get away from the screams, but only to remind myself of the giant hands that continue to creep closer. My body can not find the nerve to move away from the hands nor to run away from the noise. My brain is now in a state of panic and confusion; I do not know what to do. Then I hear another scream of bloody murder but this time it was of my own terror. I try to shout words such as “Stay away from me” or “Get away” but I cannot make words out of them. My cries become whines and I kneel down trying to beg for mercy. The heart in my chest begins to race at least five hundred times as fast as usual. I feel every nerve in my body jitter across my skin.

But alas, the hands have arrived and come down to grab me. I try to push away but it is to no avail. The white hands now covered in blood have grabbed my body ever so tightly and slowly begin to take me towards the lights. Since my arms and legs are immobile due to the tight vice grip the hands have on my body, all I can do to try and escape from the hands is to bite them. I begin to bite the hands as furious as a rabid dog attacking a bear. I soon stop biting when I realize that I am almost at the light. I feel too weak now to fight back. The hands pull me out of the light which is beyond a hole in which I am pulled out. The rainbow lights are gone and I soon find myself in a room filled with giant men.

The hands are attached to one of the giants holding me.  He has a mask on. Two other men stand up with devilish smiles on their faces. I do not know what to do. I see that there is a rope attached to my belly, so I grab on to it and with all the might I have left, I tug as hard as I can to try and get back into the hole. As I do I see a woman right above the cave lying down also with that damn smile. But that face distracts me long enough for another man with a mask to cut the rope off from my belly.  As soon as he cuts the rope from my stomach, I become dumbfounded. I forget everything that had just happened. I know something happened, but I am not sure what. The men with masks take their strange masks off and have smiles on their faces. The other men also have smiles. I look at them and can’t help but cry. I cry because I don’t know what else to do. I have just forgotten everything, and I know what ever just happened, I know I just lost.

The man holding onto me takes me over to the woman and she holds me in my arms. I gaze into her blue eyes as she smiles down at me. She says some sort of gibberish that I cannot understand, but when I look into her eyes I can’t help but smile. I look around the room more closely and study it. I realize I am in a hospital. Then it dawns on me what has just happened to me. I don’t remember what happened before, but I hold this to be true now. I have just been born.

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Sketch by Justene Bickel

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A Love Prolonged

       For Savannah

Preach to me

The words of life.

The feeling of hate

That seems to suffice.

My cold dark heart

That is destined to be.

It stings like a dart

If only you could see.

My obsession seems to end

I can finally move along.

Maybe one day our hearts will mend

And become life’s true love song.

For this is not goodbye

This feeling long overdue.

Something I can no longer hide

Know that my love is for you.

Anonymous

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Soul Frontier

by Jamie Shepard

Chapter One: A New Earth

The fire danced before my eyes. I stared back, watching it's movements as it jumped across crumbling twigs.

"Ian! You’re daydreaming again!" Mia shouted at me, waking me from the hypnotic movement of the flames.

"Yeah, I guess I am." I replied. She's always been like that, scolding me. She acts like my mother, even though she's only my half-sister.

"So, we're stuck here, huh?" Ivan mumbled to himself.

"Yeah, sorry for bringing the three of you along." Felix said.

Felix and Ivan. The two seem like best buds now. Ivan was the cool kid back in school, and got every girl he wanted. Well, except for Mia. Now he's just trying to make friends out of us. Felix was the person I met a few seconds before the earthquake. He's still a mystery to the rest of us.

Isaac who was sitting, staring into the fire like I was, spoke up, "Are you sure this is still Earth?"

"This is not Earth!" I shouted before I knew what I was doing. I found everyone staring at me. "Sorry, I-it's just too hard to imagine that the Earth that I knew is gone." I mumbled as an apology for the outburst. Isaac just continued to stare at me. He was the genius back in school, but now everything is real, not just something you read in textbooks. I could tell he was frightened. I was too.

"Yes, well, the Elders will answer all your questions when we arrive." Felix said.

"Where are these Elders located?"

"On the continent of Internus, in our capitol city Aramyial."

"How far away is that?"

"We must trek across these jungles." He swept his hand out over top of the trees; we could see just barely see down the cliff side in the fading sunlight.  "Then we will arrive at the port city of Aust. At least one half of it." He then pointed to the south-east where we could just barely make out lights in the distance. "The other half is located across the Agarian Sea, and when we reach that half we will be in Internus.” As he finished his speech he looked at the group, trying to read our expressions.

There was a long silence, then Isaac spoke up, "Go on.”

Chapter Two: The Jungles of Firos and the Savages of Horridus

A wolf howled somewhere in the tangle of trees. War cries were heard and we all turned our eyes to the jungle, all except for Felix. He was on his feet, staring at the ground, fists clenched.

"Those Horridusians! Hunting on sacred Firos ground!" Felix said as he grabbed his spear, his purple hair blowing in the wind.

"Felix, come back!" Mia yelled at the disappearing image of Felix.

"We have to go after him guys!" I said, listening to the cries in the forest.

"Ha!" We all jumped to our feet and looked for the source of the voice. A kid around our age stepped out from behind the rocks. He brushed his blue hair out of his eyes, and spoke again with a voice that sounded like ice shattering, "Go after him? You know nothing about this place and yet you think you can play the hero. Listen, your best bet is to stay here and wait. He'll be fine on his own."

"You think you can just come in here and order us around? Who do you think we are? Listen to me instead. I'm going after him. Try to stop me. Anyone?" I said, looking around the camp.

"Go if you want, I bet these three are smart enough to stay here."

"Tell me one thing before I leave, what's your name?"

"Piers."

"Very well, Piers, remember my name well. It's Ian." I then turned and ran down the path that Felix took.

**********

I was running. Running though the jungle. I saw dead bodies, all bloodied and mangled. I saw blades sharpened beyond my imagination. I picked one up. It was light in my hands; it fit perfectly in my hands. I saw flames up ahead, and a dark light. I picked up the sword's sheath and headed towards the light. There was something moving beyond my eyes, following this light, or rather, creating it. I saw red glowing eyes and a wide gaping hole filled with rows of teeth. The hole swallowing me up, but never touching me...

"Wake up Ian! Please!"

"Uuuugghhh..." I moaned.

"He's awake!"

"I hardly think that moaning counts as being awake."

I opened my eyes and saw Mia's tear filled face. "Mia, there is no need to cry for me."

"I'm sorry, I just thought you might have died."

"What happened to me anyways?" I said as I tried to sit up. Then I saw it. My shirt was soaked in blood.

"That doesn't look good" I said as I laid back down. I then saw Felix and Piers talking. I could make out some of their conversation.

"Never again Felix." Piers said.

"Sorry. Is he going to be ok?" Felix said, looking worried.

"Yeah. He's not too bad off." Piers said, then noticed me. "Ahah! He's awake!"

"Yeah. Thanks for noticing." I said between moans of agony.

"Come on brother, I've got to tend to the hero." Piers said, motioning for Felix to follow.

"B-Brother? You guys are brothers?" I said, and looked at the others, and met their surprised faces staring back at me too.

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"Mandala"  Jessie Hadac

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“8:26”

 My paradise came crashing down around me,

Momentary bliss shattered by the realization of mortality.

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Can You See Me

I can see you down there but

can you see me up here?

I am up above all in blue.

I will be watching your every move

“Watching and protecting you….”

You will soon see me as I see you

But you will be older know as

I am too

We will be together at last watching over

The ones we love so much they

Will do as we and be strong and brave.

“Can you see me…?”

 Emilee Fronk

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Never again will I gaze into those eyes and feel the pain that resides within them from a time before time. No longer will I be subject to the torment, the hate, the anger; the very confusion that consumes me in the wretched agony of the presence. Of my overwhelming future, my devastating past, my conscious now.

And as I walk, utterly alone down the dark evermore distorted path, the path I chose for myself, not for the need of being alone but for the need of being independent, will I realize that my life, in its entirety is solely based around the basic human instinct to care about others, to be loved, and to love. And with this learnt I give you myself. I give you my soul, my body, my heart, my mind, forevermore, I am yours.

Steven Howard

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"The Life Cycle"  Stephen Morsch         

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Boogie Men

The Boogie Man is the thing I dread;
I am not talking about the one that lives under a bed;
It creeps and crawls like a monster;
It reeks of death, it is the killer.

The Boogie Man lives on;
No one knows where;
Some say there’s more than one;
Some say they are a pair.

Some brave, some scared;
It’s all the same to me;
It may not be fair;
So never show glee.

Once they are unleashed;
The beasts cannot be stopped;
They will continue to feed;
They will continue to seed.

Fire burns within their eyes;
Passion fades into their scars;
It may not be wise;
But they are blind and cannot listen to their hearts.

The battle begins;
They have little time to live;
Fight back! They run in;
In the end; no one wins.

They return to oblivion;
Awaiting their next bout;
Bloodshed rules the land;
The Boogie Men travel to their next rout.
On wards and never look back;
That is what they do;
Carrying bodies in sacks;
They have to.

I am not saying the Boogie Men are bad;
Maybe just a little sad;
Their line of work is horrendous;
Run along little lad.

Go on, and don’t fear the Boogie Men;
Without them we would not be alive;
Disrespect is what they receive;
Honor is what they deserve.

Stephen Morsch

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Photo by Francesca

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Sonnet

Bullets penetrating my soul like ice

When will these ghastly horrors be over?

My blood is so thick and as hard as gneiss

I am praying for my sinful lover

Gun pointed against my head at half mast

Trigger drawn back and it’s ready to shoot

Sometimes I wish you were just in the past

Feelings as if my hearts has been a loot

The time has come for thee to be forgotten

Blood runs down my face with a single click

The smell of flesh and bodies are rotten

And my dear love cracked my spine like a stick

My feelings for you are truly un-spoke

That maybe one day your life was un-broke

Cody Haupt

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"Clockwork" Jessie Hadac

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"Fill Your Head" Jessie Hadac

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"Days of the Future" Stephen Morsch

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"Untitled" Alyson Huber

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Broken in Time

She misses but dismisses these memories

She falls but stands tall

She’s hurt but he’s dirt

She’s sad but mad

An just wants to be glad

She can’t sleep, so she’ll keep awake

All she wanted was more

 But he wouldn’t open the door

So she gazes out the window

As time grows old with her

An still, she stairs in the mirror

Putting on the same lipstick

That’s staining her lips

From the wait, that she’s stuck in

Every moment growing heavier

As the clock ticks an days go by

Her heart is aching

Still he doesn’t show

Her blue puddle eyes grow more

With tears, as she crushes the letter he wrote

In her small hand and steadily

Her voice shakes as she reads it from memory

But still looks at it, like it’s the first time

As her hair continues to fall out of place

A tear streaks her face

Justene Bickel

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Pet Shop

One dog

Two fish

Red collar

Blue dish

Eric Smart

Katelyn White

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Photo by Becky Boerner

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In the end, what will be left? Will there be love? Or will all lovers be damned to an eternity of loneliness?

As darkness turns to light, will the Demons of the night be rid of this dreadful world in which they roam looking for a place of belonging? Or will they be forced to wander aimlessly in a world so cold, so lonely, so devoid of light?

But then as the morning dew is illuminated by the morning sun and the beauty of its seemingly divine light pierces the evilness that the night imposes upon all of the world will we be liberated from the terrors that were cascading us into a death-spiral of fear, hate, hopelessness, and loneliness.

Steven Howard

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Paladins ® OP-Haiku-

Paladins own you
Crusader Strike goes pew pew
But now I'm holy Q-Q

 Ryan Vogt

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Out of Wishes

One breezy night

I listened to the wind whisper

While the lonely leafs danced

An the stars secretly glowed

Making the moon at lost

With this chilly air hugging me goodbye

While the shadows slept away

An the colors refused to wake

To make the day

Live another hour

For its minutes to midnight

An now its today

Where I stand alone

In await,

Just to see you

But the clouds are crawling away

For it’s another night without you

So I’ll kiss tonight goodbye

And watch yesterday’s shooting stars

 Justene Bickel

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A Second Chance

by Rebecca Storke

Her long curly brown hair fell gently down the crest of her back. The mid summer breeze swept over her cheeks and she could not help but to be in awe over the beauty of the day. Slowly she laid her old, torn covered book on her lap, as she repositioned herself on the rough ground. The tree she had chosen to sit under was far from perfect. The massive oak stood far taller than other trees, the base was so large one could only hope this tree would never be harmed. Yet it was the rich aroma that led her to choose this particular tree. The ground was seemingly uncomfortable. No grass grew around the tree, and the roots were barely covered with dirt, yet as she stood pondering whether to move to another tree, one that would be more appealing, she felt compelled to give this particularly sad tree a chance.

 The book she chose to read today was one that seemed dreadfully familiar to her, yet she still could not completely understand the point the author was trying to make. This one in conception bothered her more so then it should have. She felt, as she gazed out into the open park, slightly irritated and aggravated with herself for not being able to completely comprehend the simple message shown through the characters in this book. She never thought of herself as an ignorant or stupid individual but this book irked her in ways she couldn’t even reasonably understand. Trying to over look the short-tempered remarks she was saying to herself, she decided to preoccupy herself by enjoying the simplicity of the day.

Slowly and delightfully she scanned the park, looking for anything that would take her mind away from the current annoyances she was feeling. She looked at every tree, flower, and shrub wondering what their purpose was. She sat for a long while, looking at the only flower she was able to name, a Black-Eyed Susan. The beautiful yellow petals clashed with the rarely seen black center, and it made her heart warm. Yet these petals were not full of life; they suffered with brown edges that seemed ready to fall off. How sad it was to her to see this magnificent flower, dying, mixed in with unfathomably ugly weeds. Her thoughts could have stayed all day on this one sad flower, but a yellow object flew over her head stunning her.

As she watched the ball fly over her head in amazement, she was suddenly hit by what felt like a lightning bolt. Her overly sore back from sitting on the uncomfortable tree for hours was now being thrown into the rigid ground with magnificent force. She lay on her back with her delightfully beautiful eyes closed tightly; hoping the extreme weight that was pressing tensely on her stomach was only her imagination. Her face was then moist. She then felt a smooth, iridescently smelly tongue lick her check with much excitement. She decided to open her fierce eyes and see her predator before he gobbled her up, but as she slowly opened her eyes she did not see a predator, but a loving, beautiful golden retriever. She immediately sat up and pushed the dog off her torso. She could not help but marvel at the extreme softness of the fur and the amazingly stunning face, which was accented with the most beautiful eyes. She sat for a long moment just staring at the large, humble dog, not paying any attention to the stabbing pains she was feeling throughout her body. As she was about to reach her hands out to touch the dog’s thrilling fur, she heard a name being called from the distance, a name in which she knew was not her own. This voice must be coming from the owner of the dog. 

“Charlie,” the voice called again. This man could not have been anything but an angel with the beauty and sincerity that could be heard in his voice. The dog then took his deep gaze off her frightened face and looked in the direction of the voice. She hoped that the dog would not leave; she wanted to see this angel with such a magnificent voice, a voice that almost brought tears to her eyes.

“Are you okay?” a voice called at her.

“Just fine” she said in return. The anticipation was killing her, where was this voice coming from, and why would this creature not show his face? Then she saw him, running towards her and the dog. His brown, nicely trimmed hair was swaying as he ran; every muscle on his body was tight, and his face lit up with a smile of concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice rang like the melody of a chorus. “You took a pretty hard hit. Here let me help you up.” His long fingers and massive palms quickly grabbed her wrists and pulled her to her feet. She was unsure if her flimsy legs would hold her, but they managed to, and as she stood in front of him her eyes could not turn away from his stare.

“Are you positive you are okay? You look like you are going to faint. Charlie took a good jump at you.”

“No, I’m okay.” She reassured him, moving her gaze from the man back to the dog sitting politely on the ground. She moved her hand over his fur, and his face lit up with glory and satisfaction.

 “He is a magnificent dog.” she told him, unsure of her motives in doing so.

“He was just a mongrel when I found him”

A mongrel? She thought. How could such a delight be a mongrel?

 “I found him when he was six months old in a dumpster.  He was crying and for some reason I could not turn away from him.”

She looked back into the man’s eyes that were so blue and so real. She was waiting unwearyingly for the part where he would tell her what a burden this dog had been on his life, but that line never came. He looked down at the dog and put his hands over the radiant golden fur. “He saved me in ways I can’t even describe. I was lost and so was he. He saved me and I saved him.” She was surprised that such a beautiful stranger would tell her such a story, and that he of all people would be lost. “All we needed was for someone to give us a second chance.” He moved his hands gently over the dog’s beautiful mane once again lightly tapping him twice, then turning his beautiful blue eyes towards her and nodding, they both slowly walked away.

She stood for a long moment watching them both gracefully walk away. As she stood pondering to herself whether or not to call the dog’s name, she suddenly came to a realization. She moved her gaze from the direction of the man and his dog, back to the Black-Eyed Susan that she had been examining before the dog launched at her. She yet again took in the beauty of the flower with the mystical black center and the browning petals. At that moment when she fully comprehended the purpose of the flower she turned around and looked at the soft blanket, delicious red apple, and the old, faded book she had brought with her that day. She recapped everything the man had said. She quickly and with a great deal of anticipation picked up the book and stared unknowingly at the cover. She then turned her head back to the old oak which was killing her back and was seemingly terrible to look at. She sat repositioning herself on the ground where no grass and roots that were showing. She opened the book with a massive grin and started to read it yet again from the beginning.

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Justene Bickel

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