Below will be snippets added from some of our writings - not the entire story. Hope you enjoy the tease!
From Liz: ( Written February 2011)
“Somebody has to make a decision,” whispered the Captain. His energy almost gone from loss of blood, he was no longer in charge. He turned hopeful eyes to his closest companion.
Mark Hansen lifted his soot-streaked face and ran his hand through dust coated hair.
“Cap’s right everyone; he can’t do this anymore. Who wants to step up to the plate?”
Heads remained bowed and only the occasional cough broke the silence.
Sighing in resignation, Mark knew he had to answer his own question.
“Right, that leaves me then. Everyone okay with that?”
Murmurs of agreement, all tinged with relief, and some quiet sobs reached his ears. Mark couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with anyone as he slowly rose. Unable to reach his full height, he stood stooped over, and looked around. Visibility was poor, the dust still moving about.
He laid a hand on the Captain’s shoulder, “I’ll do my best to not let you down.”
“Sorry to leave this to you Mark.”
Mark looked in the direction of where he hoped the way out still existed. Inwardly, his gut recoiled at the thought of what lay on the other side – if he could even get the heavy door open. ...........
Recently submitted and published on Alison Bruce's Blog for her Valentine Shorts (February 2013) - one item each from both Pam and Liz.
Love Is Not Always Coloured Red
The cold creeps into my bones and I start to shiver. The usual dreich February weather has me dreaming of sandy beaches and palm trees. Not that I’ve ever seen a palm tree or had a vacation in the sun but I can imagine. Everything, after all the Christmas lights are gone is grey or white. The snow is falling as I write this and even the evergreens in this light look, well grey.
I like grey and white. I wear grey clothes and my hair is grey; well it’s actually white. I get told repeatedly to wear some colour. ‘Try a darker lipstick, or, you would really suit Fuchsia’ to,’ you need some colour’; so say the fashion sages who are my friends.
And in February for the first two weeks we are bombarded with..colour. Red to be exact. Red hearts drip over television and newspaper advertisements. Florist windows display only long stemmed red roses. Boxes of chocolates are tied with red bows. I’m knitting a red sweater just to cheer me up.
Red , the colour of love. Valentine day. A day for romance and love.
We met when very young and married soon after. Good years and bad years but we always come back together. I’ve re-read the handwritten love letter he wrote the night before we married. You can’t fake that. Some years we forgot to celebrate our love when life and all its vagaries got in the way.
The years we did celebrate we’ve been to the honeymoon capital of the world, Niagara Falls, gone out for dinner, had dinner in, stayed up all night with a sick child and shared many a box of chocolate or bottle of wine.
I wonder how we’re celebrating this Valentine day? We’re not speaking this week. Had a roof leak and sodden carpets and tempers came to the surface as we don’t cope well with the unexpected.
I am stashed away in the guest bedroom to get away from the blowing fans drying out the carpets. Its six o’clock. Not a peep from my beloved. No chocolates or Roses or the promise of a meal out over candles.
There’s a knock on the door. Said beloved moved over and extended to me his closed fist and dropped a heart shaped piece of amber into my hand. We made up.
Now amber is brown and gold and I love it. I think I should go back to my brown hair colour. Who needs red!
A WILLING HEART
“Hearts,” he said. “If I had more than one, you could have them all. But one is all I have to give. And I promise not to share it with anyone else.”
She smiled up at him and he waited for her to respond.
“Dear sweet Jake. Yours is the only heart I’d ever need. I can’t be that selfish – you have a heart that was destined to be shared – without jealousy. I’d like to think my motives are far above that.”
His warm brown eyes searched hers, where tears threatened. Her delicate hand folded around his. It was so warm against the chill of her skin.
“Listen, Sam – February 14th is almost here and it would mean the world to me if you said yes.”
A gentle sigh escaped her lips. “It’s a big day isn’t it, for us. I mean, if I were to accept. It means that much to you?”
He caressed the side of her face and pushed back a lock of hair. “All my life I’ve wanted to make a difference – a real difference – in someone’s life. And then you came along, turned my world upside down you did.”
“That wasn’t my plan you know.”
“Hush – I know. Fate, or maybe Cupid, intervened. And well, here we are.”
Approaching footsteps threatened to bring their time of intimacy to an end. Jake reached into his pocket.
“For later,” he smiled, handing her a thick document.
With great reluctance, he began to rise from the chair. A large mitt of a hand bore down, gently, on Jake’s shoulder. “Time to go.”
Jakes eyes pleaded with Sam. “Say yes, please say yes?”
Her lips quivered and now the pent up tears began to stream.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Relief flooded his face. “Thank you. You’ve made my life complete.”
She watched as the prison guard led Jake away. The nurse by her side turned her wheelchair back towards the exit.
Sam’s shoulders shook and the nurse gently handed her a tissue. “He’s so brave.”
Summoning strength, Sam spoke, “What cruel twist would have the man I love put to death on Valentine’s Day.”
The nurse was quiet and didn’t speak, but continued to wheel the chair holding the wan and delicate woman down stark corridors and out to a parking lot.
She faced Samantha and looked her in the eyes.
“Such a love I never thought I’d see, Sam. You’ll get your new heart after all.”