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D is for – Destiny (Beyond #7)

d

[Long, long time ago (just about 2 years I believe!) I started writing something. Not quite sure what was it to be honest, lets just say simply: a story.

If interested – you can find the previous parts here:

#1, #2, #3, #4, #5#6 ]


… Anise wrapped her fingers around the mug. Truth was the obvious choice for her. Not that she was always telling the truth, she thought with a bit of a regret. But given this choice… She never wanted to know the future. Her friends in high school would go to the fortune tellers, she never went with them. No, she’d rather wait and see… She’d rather believe that nobody knows what’s going to happen… Well, God, maybe, but nobody here, on Earth. She liked to think that her decisions are hers to be made, and nobody should know what they were. Even now – had someone predicted what she’d choose?

She shook her head gently.

‘The Truth, Abe.’ She looked into his eyes. He smiled gently, and started:

‘I have to warn you Anise – it might seem, well, pretty hard to believe. But it is the truth…’ A smallish rabbit hopped to Anise’s chair, curiously tilted the head and reached with his front paws to her lap. Not even thinking about it, she lifted him up and put on her lap. He settled there, visibly content with her decision.

Seeing that Abe’s smile widened and he continued.

“Long time ago, two families came to live on this Island. It looked different here, then. Not just forests and paths, and meadows. The soil was rich and yielding nice crop…” his eyes dreamy, he seemed to have traveled back in time. He shivered slightly and came back “As I said, two families, both with…”

A sudden crash made them both jump. The bunnies hopped off their lap and scattered around the room. Two men barged in.
“Don’t move! Hands up where I can see them!” – yelled one of them.

Anise turned towards the men.
“Mike! Joe!”
Just two jumps were enough for the last one to find himself next to Anise. He wrapped his arms tight around her, surprising them both with that move.

“Are you ok, Anise? What happened? Are you hurt? Did he…” he wouldn’t dare to finish this sentence… Even a thought that something might have happened to her was unbearable.

“No, Joe, I’m perfectly fine.” Anise said looking in Joe’s face. “Don’t hurt him!” She yelled to Mike who was just about to put a pair of solid handcuffs on Abe’s wrists. “leave him alone, he’s a friend!”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Anise. Yes, everybody was surprised, herself included. Friend? Yet there was something special she felt towards the man, she didn’t know… Or did she?

“What’s going on here?” Mike started “Anise, wasn’t this the guy who kidnapped you, dragged you who knows where and…”

“Yes Mike, but honestly I think he was trying to help”

“Some way of helping” Joe mumbled under his breath.

“Can we just let him talk? And then you can decide…”

Mike didn’t  say anything to that, just stared expectantly at Abe.

The man smiled gently, and continued: “Both families were poor and in awe of the beautiful land they could call their own. They were brought there by boats, and the people that dropped them off, said they will find everything they need in the log cabins. The also said they’ll be back, but the families didn’t think about it much.
The Rock family had 2year old twin boys, the Forests – second family – 6 months old twin girls. They were very happy, each in their own house, with nice piece of land between them. Land which they started to cultivate the moment they came in. And they came prepared – with seeds of fruit and vegetables. Soon they discovered there were quite a few fruit treas on the island as well. They were happy here for a few years. Then the tragedy happened… Some men dressed in strange uniforms, armed up to their teeth, came in, tied up the parents, and stole one child from each family…”

“No!” a scream came out of Anise’s throat.

“Were they those people that dropped them off?” Joe asked Funny how he also felt like there was something familiar about Abe.

“All they said they were following orders. Didn’t say whose orders… The girl was about 3 years old, and the boy almost 5. The attackers left as quickly as they came. They left instructions behind, pretty short, that were saying that they are not to try to find the kids if they want to keep them safe .Both families were in deep shock at first, but then that’s what brought them closer together. Of course they attempted to leave island but after each try the whispers were more present, and they aren’t anything nice. The kids grew to love each other, but there always was an empty space in their hearts…”

“That’s all nice story Abe, but what does it have to do with us here?” Joe asked.

“I’m getting to it Joe” Abe smiled slightly as he answered.

“How do you know my name?” Joe asked again, looking at the man suspiciously.

“I know a lot about you… But let me finish, and believe me – you’ll understand.
One day the kids, well adult now, came back from a long walk around the island, only to find their log cabins empty, their parents missing. They knew the story of the kidnapping of their siblings… Found another note in one of the cabins, saying that their parents will be safe as long as they do not try to look for them. It also said there will be someone who will be helping them from now on.”

“Let me guess, and that some one is you?” Mike asked sarcastically.

“Yes. I was on this island from the moment they first landed here… my rabbits and I were here from the beginning… ” Abe’s voice was changing into a dreamy whisper… The whisper that sounded so familiar…

Joe looked Anise and noticed her eyes were closed. She seemed to be dreaming or thinking about something, her fists clenched. Suddenly she opened eyes, looked firmly at Abe and said:

“Was that… Were they…”

Abe stood up and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Yes Anise. Those people you saw there, was that young couple, that was left on the island.”

Joe looked sharply at Anise. Her face was white as a sheet of paper.

“Are we… And them… and us…” She couldn’t find any words.

“Yes. They were your siblings… You are the kidnapped twins… And you came here to find your destiny…”

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C is for not so Curious Cat ;)

cPumpkin joined our family in September 2015. (You can read various stories about him and my other furry family members herehere and here )Never before have I had a cat. Didn’t quite know what to expect, was scared he’d start peeing all over the place (I’ve heard of the cats that would do that!) or pooping into shoes(!!!) just in spite. Conversations I pump1had with cat-owners I knew only calmed me down for a bit. Because – oh yeah, their cats might be just soooo cute, good
and litter-trained, but WHAT IF…

Yeah, those “whatifs” were killing me 🙂

Turns out – Pumpkin somehow was already litter trained (even though as I read in adoption papers, he pump2came to the shelter with his back legs covered in urine 😦 I am trying not to imagine why and how…), and almost never misses 🙂 almost never – because (gross alert!) sometimes chunks of poop sticks to his longish fur and gets out of the litter box… Well, I wouldn’t say it was his fault exactly, but we are on the look for surprises. 🙂pump3

Anyhow – to the topic now. I’ve discovered that the “curiosity killed the cat” saying is a lie!!! WHEN does he have a chance to be curious, if 3/4 of his day he
spends sleeping?? and a good chunk of the awake time – eating? 😀 Huh! Nope. Not curious 🙂

But…. Isn’t he CUTE though? 😀 😀 😀

 


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B is for…

bBeyond… #6

Long, long time ago (just about 2 years I believe!) I started writing something. Not quite sure what was it to be honest, lets just say simply: a story.

If interested – you can find the previous parts here:

#1, #2, #3, #4, #5

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Is it the same cabin?’ – a crazy thought shot through Anise’s head. ‘Impossible. I walked and walked, probably for hours!’ She looked around… there was a man sitting on that same chair, that was tipped over… or was it a similar house? But then how many log cabins can there be on this little island???

‘You’re safe now’.

Anise jumped and a little scream slipped out of her mouth. The man had very gentle voice. And very warm smile. The unkempt hair was long and seemed to be connected with the beard, all in the same, dark brown shade, speckled with single gray hair. He had a big white rabbit on his lap.

Seriously, what’s with those rabbits?

The man pointed at one of the chairs, inviting her to sit down.
‘It’s okay. Don’t be afraid. I meant no harm. But it wasn’t safe for you to be here before…’

All of a sudden she felt tired, and thought that sitting wasn’t actually a bad idea… Anise looked at the man with questions in her big,calm eyes.
‘But those two…’ she started, but stopped immediately. How was she to ask about the two bodies in the cabin… And was it the same cabin they are in now?

The man got up of the chair and went to the far corner of the room they were sitting in. It seemed as if that was the kitchen corner, with a little wood-burning stove in the middle of it. He took the kettle of the stove and poured the water into two mugs. As he brought them to the table Anise was sitting at, she saw there was something written on them. Carefully the man put the mugs in front of her. ‘Truth’ and ‘Future’ – that’s what was written on the mugs.

‘You have to make your choice, Anise’ – the man said.

‘How do you know my name?’- Anise asked, too surprised to be scared.

‘Can’t tell you before you make your choice’. The man’s voice was very gentle but firm at the same time.

‘Can you tell me your name? Since you know mine…’ Anise didn’t plan on bargaining, just thought it was only fair, since he knows her name…

‘My name is Abe.’

Why does this name sound familiar? Where have she heard it before?

‘Do I know you…?’ she whispered.

‘Your choice, Anise’ Abe persisted.

She looked into his eyes as if she’d expect to find the answer… There was something familiar in them… She felt strangely safe in his presence. Couldn’t explain why, but she had the impression she knew him forever…

Anise looked at the mugs again and reached her hand…

 


15 Comments

A – is for… Anne ;)

aOf Green Gables of course!

Do not remember when was it exactly, or how old was I when I read it for the first time… 11?12? ania_z_zielonego_wzgorza

This was the cover:

I remember when I borrowed the first “Anne” book from the library. I went there shortly after and asked for the next… and next. And then the librarian put aside all the rest of the series for me… Later on I bought the whole series . Re-read it multiple times. My Mom was laughing that I was trying to learn the whole series by heart.

And I’ve always dreamt I’d be able to read it in original one day…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA…Fast forward to year 2008 I believe… In one of the conversations with my Husband I mentioned my dream to be able to visit PEI one day… And to read the series in original… “One day? why not this summer?” He suggested… Wow…

Not only that, but I got the whole series for my birthday… and, yeah , we went to PEI in summer 2009…

… and I felt like a child again. Yup, we went with our two kiddos, just a few years old each, but honestly I was thankful for my Husband, he had the job of watching three kids that time. When I walked into Avonlea (yes, in Cavendish they made a tiny village, with original buildings from that time… school, church, stores…) I was re-living the books again. Everything came to life again…

OK so I could be writing and writing, but instead I’m just going to say – Dream away! They DO come true!!! 🙂

 


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“Come Before Winter” by Elizabeth Golibart Honaker~~ Virtual Book Tour

Write Now Literary is pleased to announce Come Before Winter, a Christian Historical Fiction with author Elizabeth G. Honaker, March 20-24, 2017.

ASIN: B00PPTR5C2
ISBN-10: 1502598353
ISBN-13: 978-1502598356
Book Release Date: November 2014

About The Author

Elizabeth Golibart Honaker hails from Sparta, Tennessee, where she teaches writing support and English at Motlow Community College. Her undergraduate degree is in Liberal Arts, and her first MA is in Theology. This has given her the breadth and scope to write over fifteen full-length passion plays in the last twenty years – seven of which are in print with others being prepared for publication – as well as dozens of shorter scripts, short stories, and poems on Christian topics. Her first historical fiction novel, Come Before Winter, was published in 2014. In that same year, she completed her second MA in English and Creative Writing (Fiction) at Southern New Hampshire University.
When she is not writing or tutoring, she spends her time devising new home projects for Allen, her husband of 45 years. She also enjoys communicating with her two wonderful grown children and buying (and making) trinkets for her four lively grandchildren. She is passionate about sharing Christ, missional activities, and her local church. She also loves gardening, sewing, piano playing, and Star Trek as time permits.



About The Book

This novel skillfully mixes historical people and events from the first century A.D. with fictional characters to create a riveting narrative. What was it like to be confronted by common people from the Roman Empire who believed in an uncommon Savior? Tribune Justinius Plaxus Glatonis, a powerful member of the Imperial Guard in Rome, finds out.




 


It was sundown when Justinius, Tribune of the Roman Imperial Guard, entered his cubicle and wearily removed his plumed helmet. After placing it in its proper place in the crudely-crafted cupboard near his cot, the warrior stretched and flexed his arms. In the name of Mithras, he thought, am I getting old? My muscles never ached as badly as they do today. He withdrew his broad sword from its scabbard and placed it next to his pilum – the expertly-crafted Roman spear. His shield had shifted slightly on its peg, and he adjusted it to its proper position. Septimus, his tesserarius,1 had already lit his oil lamps, and a welcome cup of wine was placed on the table. Justinius stood to drink it; he awaited Septimus’ help to remove his breastplate and underlying tunic and could not relax until that was accomplished. However, as a good soldier, he was patient – he knew that Septimus would not keep his commander waiting without cause. He drank the cup slowly, savoring the r ich fullness of the wine produced but a few stadia from the gates of Rome. Wine of such quality is not to be found anywhere else in the empire, he mused. I am fortunate to be stationed in Rome herself, the Queen of Cities.

Roman aide-de-camp

Septimus entered and saluted Justinius. His commander nodded, returned the empty cup to the table, and raised his arms so that his aide could more easily access the straps and belts that attached one piece of the breastplate to another. As his aide removed the back piece, Justinius momentarily held the front piece so it would not fall to the ground. It was a heavy, durable section of armor, but the tribune did not want it scratched up unduly. As a good warrior always did, he took care of his own kit himself, polishing it daily. Each piece stood proudly in its assigned place. As Justinius’ aide, Septimus’ job was to assist his commander only in necessary tasks. He was not a servant; he was subordinate only to Justinius. However, there was a certain affection reflected in Septimus’ actions. Indeed, he went beyond the normal scope of a soldier assigned to assist an officer. It was not so much in the big things that he sought to aid his superior; he tried to notice the little things that could smooth the way for such an admirable leader as the tribune he served. His eyes fell on the tattered brown cloak with the curious stripes that draped itself over a partially-concealed scroll. He reached for it to tidy its appearance, but Justinius spoke to him with uncharacteristic sharpness: “Don’t touch that!” “Sir, I only meant…” “I will handle it myself. Do not touch it.” “Yes, Tribune.” “That will be all.” Justinius stood still until Septimus had left the room. Why did I speak to him in that manner? He asked himself. Now I have raised suspicion…What a foolish thought! Who cares whether a moth-eaten cloak and an ill-penned scroll sit in my quarters? Still… Justinius glanced once more toward the door; it had been securely latched by his aide, so he felt more secure. He stood before the cupboard, struggling with himself whether to touch the cloak and the scroll once more or no. What have I to fear from such objects – the cloak of a fanatic and the scroll of a deluded fool? Justinius sank down onto his cot. The apparatus was wellworn and had seen over fifty campaigns – like its owner – but it was sturdy and serviceable, like everything else in Justinius’ cubicle. There were plenty of other things to claim the soldier’s attention; the weekly slabs with their figures and lines and reports had to be read and digested, and more reports had to be made to superiors up the line. There was his armor to polish once again. But Justinius could not concentrate on anything but the two maddeningly distractive articles. He stood and went to the cupboard. This fear is insane. He reached out to pull the cloak from its resting place, and as he drew it closer to his body, he smelled its lingering aroma of travel and sweat and contact with horses and camels and ships. It was somehow reassuring to smell that smell again.


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just reading…

They went to the library with the kids. This time – not their regular branch, but the one that was just by the little skating rink they just had some fun on. Or was that Pokemon hunting? One or the other. So it was some time in January. She goes wild seeing all the cozies* she’s never saw before, some authors ring the bell, some not. There is that one series in particular, that she was able to find Vol 2&3. No sign of Vol 1 of course. The bag couldn’t fit all the books and she maxed out the spots on her library card.

At home she went on the library catalog, hoping for Vol 1. No luck. Not the first time the library doesn’t care for series…

Fast-forward to Valentine’s Day. She gets a gift. You guessed it – Vol 1. He remembered. Searched in the bookstore. He cared. And.. There is even a little heart on the cover…

IMG_7675  .. So yeah. The “He” in the story was my Husband 🙂 And this is my current read 😀


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windchill, running and… (possibly) laryngitis ;)

medals

Yeah, tough combination I think. But we did it. We-as in, for the first time, my Husband and I running in one race. I’d say together, but it wouldn’t be true – although he offered 🙂 I wanted him to feel the adrenaline once again (he used to compete in all sorts of events some years ago). Well. I did this run last year, my Husband and my Son cheering me on 🙂 This year I signed us both. With a bowl of chili and glass of beer at the end – you can’t go wrong, can you? well… unless… There is the low of -12C with the windchill of -20C on the morning of your race… AND you just happened to lose your voice…

Hence the title of this post.

I was prepping myself for the possibility I’d have to walk that 5km. I know it is ok. The thought of not going at all kinda slipped through my head once or twice, but I got rid of it saying that unless I have a fever in the morning – I’m going and that’s that. Well. My body temperature in the morning was 36.8C, which is considered perfectly normal (ok I MIGHT have cheated a smidge, taking NeoCitran extra strenght night relief, at about 11pm last night. But it’d have been gone by 6 am wouldn’t it? 😀

Anyways. We got up (an hour early, yes, the wonderful daylight saving time), ate breakfast, I took another dose of NeoCitran and we were off.

Let me tell you one thing: it was COLD! I was trying to protect my poor throat by covering my mouth and breathing through a fleece neckwarmer, but had to take it down at times as it was making the breathing a bit harder.

IMG_20170312_144117AND – not only did I finish still running, the time wasn’t bad at all! My Garmin showed we did longer than 5km, and so my time was a bit more, but still pretty good 🙂

Bowl of chili and a glass of beer followed 🙂 And Live Irish Band.

As for my throat? A visit to the doctor is in plans for tomorrow.