This week we chose to use the words “MOVE & MAKE” provided by David Ellis.
I turn back A star falls A bright light shifts New fate is arranged Stardust, airborne wishes I compose my inner mind Life has to change for the better An ancient force has prepared the way All will assemble in the red desert…
James Wainwright picks up a hitchhiker and discovers two things 1. The woman he picks up is his childhood sweetheart, only Seventeen years older. 2. He is no longer of this world.
James began a road trip alone in his 1956 Oldsmobile. He stops for a hitchhiker only to discover she is his childhood sweetheart, Sam, who disappeared seventeen years before. James learns from Sam falling asleep miles back caused him to perish in a one-car accident. He also comes to understand that Sam was taken and murdered all those years ago, and now she has come back to help him find his eternal home.
The pair visit a number of times and places and are witness to a number of historical events. The rules dictate that they do no harm to the time continuum. Trying to be careful, they inadvertently come to the attention of Lucifer who would love to have their souls as his subjects. They also find a threat to human survival and desperately need to put in place the fix necessary to save mankind.
The question becomes, will James find his eternal home in grace or lose the battle with Satan for his immortal soul and the future of human life with it? If you like time-travel, adventure, mystery, justice, and the supernatural, this story is for you.
The prologue to Eternal Road reads like any good murder mystery, followed by a quite normal beginning to chapter one, but that’s when normal left the building!
Eternal Road is a beautifully written and unique story in so many ways. A love story, an exhilarating adventure, and interesting variations of history, all rolled into one.
This story encompasses all your different emotions, as it explores life and death, good versus evil, and considering the afterlife can be such a sad subject, I found no sadness in this story.
On the contrary, I found the chemistry between Sam and James heart-warming as they try to make sense of their predicament and learn how to handle it. The ending was a surprise for me, being a lifelong romantic at heart, but I understood the reasoning behind it.
And because of this, I have the feeling there could be more from John Howell on this theme and that’s fine by me!
Don’t hesitate, go for it Time is a butterfly Beautiful in its fleeting moments A jewel waiting to be polished To be turned into something Of great value Grab every moment Squeeze it for all it’s worth…
I watch from a distance As his beautiful hands spreadgel through his hair I know he is careful, he won’t spill a drop His skin flawless, glows, but for one small crescent shaped scar on his right shoulder. I left my number, hoping he would call My name on a list of many might mean nothing to him I hoped my manuscript would sting his conscience that he would bend to the will of my words Remember that one night When I left my mark on his skin. This manuscript is no frilly romance More vengeance for having been kicked to the kerb Would he dare to publish my words?
October 15, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about chores. It doesn’t have to be a western ranch chore; it can be any routine task.
Picking blueberries would not have been a chore Ironing my stepfather’s underwear definitely was As a ten-year-old, I thought it ridiculous But mother insisted Another, was polishing his shoes plus my brothers At least they were smaller. Sitting beside my baby brother’s cot Stroking his head, trying to get him to sleep With the sun shining through my mother’s bedroom window Reminding me I should be playing outside. That day, something broke in my heart I felt a strange kind of dislike towards my mother that grew over the years Today I decided to bury that memory…
This morning I was chasing clouds Now I am watching them dancing naked by candlelight Six beautiful nymphs with golden locks Soft music spreading through my mind As large willows brush the water’s edge Should I be spying on a scene from a fairy-tale? Moving slowly, my bare feet touching water Looking down, I could not see my reflection The water clean, clear Reflecting willow fronds, flickering lights Dancing nymphs Where am I?
Beauty disguised as decay Gothic windows, painted by time Kissed by autumns warm orange Trees stripped of their summer leaves Above the balcony Behind dirty windows Shadows linger, layers of time live together Unaware of each other Objects move by unseen hand No one owns up to having touched Late at night, whispered words of are we haunted, touch the interior Do ghosts live here?
Crisp Crunching Under foot Orange flashing Autumn dancing by Time moving nature’s gown Cold winter frost lies waiting Where rivers run with time passing Old voices whisper in dark forests Soft spun silken moon hangs dark on blue skies…