“The simplest way to make sure that we raise literate children is to teach them to read, and to show them that reading is a pleasurable activity.”
~ Neil Gaiman
By Natalie Cone
The grass was soft beneath her knees. Shafts of sunlight blinked kaleidoscope patterns onto her skirt and glinted off the knife nestled in her lap. Today, her last thread snapped.
Looking away, she prayed desperately for God’s forgiveness as she pressed the blade to her wrists.
Her eyes fell on a carving in the trunk of a tree. It was a single word.
In that moment, something inside her shifted.
She pulled herself to her feet. Using the blade that was intended to end her life, she carved two more words above the one already there.
* * *
© 2013 by Natalie Cone • All rights reserved
By Robb Grindstaff
Roy and Darby lay on the roof one August night watching the meteor shower.
“Don’t the stars make you feel small,” she asked.
But they didn’t. They made him feel part of a grand scheme. There had to be a master plan and he’d have a major role, he told her.
The streak and flash, maybe miles above or just over the treetops, fired his every fiber.
“That looked close,” he said, but Darby was gone. Roy never saw her again.
* * *
© 2012 by Robb Grindstaff • All rights reserved