Belief_The King of Summers_DENOUMENT_London Bridge
Catalog Guide:
Belief
She sat clutching both ends of her violet boho shawl that she was wearing over her white sundress. Her grey hair fluttered in the breeze as she sat on the wooden bench transfixed by the Bow River in Calgary, Canada as it glided past her. She smiled when a sparrow landed in front of her and patiently waited for some bread or seeds that was apparently the fee required for sittiwww.onedoor.ccng on the bench. “I’m sorry little fella. I don’t have anything to offer you,” she said. Could it really be her? Malcolm had been having the same dream for the past week. He and Rusty were on their daily walk by the r...
The King of Summers
Willow wasn’t my first choice of name for the chestnut Thoroughbred that came to our farm in the summer of 1993, but my mother was insistent. In her eyes, it was an attempt to honor her late mother - my grandmother Willow - and in some small way, fulfill Grammy’s lifelong wish of owning a horse. My young, pretween brain wasn’t capable of articulating the pain I felt at the mere mention of Grammy’s name though and, since we weren’t the kind of family that talked about feelings or emotions (unless we were swooning gleefully over the amazing bacon at breakfast or, at most, bowing our heads in sol...
DENOUMENT
Gerald had not seen Teague in such a state. He had seen the troubleshooter take more punishment than many a man, with nary a sign of discomfort: but the big troubleshooter now lay on Doc Morten’s exam table. Teague was unconscious and seemingly, covered in blood. Like many of his medieval counterparts, the Doc was a true barber surgeon. There was even a red, white, and blue pole outside of his office. The big bruiser liked to joke that the Doc was there in Bethlehem to deliver the babe in the manger: he looked that old. Doc Morten had been a fixture on the West side of the city for as long as ...
London Bridge
“All the stars are falling down, falling down, all the stars are falling down tonight.“Your humming pierces the velvet that has been so carefully laid across the night sky. The stars, of course, aren’t falling down in the slightest. They have no reason to do so, and falling is a most graceless act that the stars think they’re better than. Realy, though, everybody falls. I saw the North Star trip over their shoelaces just last week. But we’re not talking about the stars. We happen to be talking, or narrating, about you. You are the center of my attention, always have been. You’re a pleasant pe...