share from the hill

The towels had been hanging from the rod for years. They were stained and worn, and quite frankly, just plain ugly. Debra didn’t want to touch them but she really didn’t have a choice. It was important for her to see what was living within them.

Twenty-five hours had passed since the incident. It seemed to be a lot longer than that. That twenty-five hours seemed more like a week in her mind. The fact that she still was having trouble comprehending exactly what took place wasn’t helping the matter. She thought if she could just get a little rest the entire incident might make a little more sense.

Pink ponies and purple giraffes roamed the field. Cotton candy grew from the ground as a chocolate river meandered off to the side. What looked like stones in the pasture were actually rock candy. Everything in her dream seemed to be perfect except for the fact that she had no mouth.

There wasn’t a whole lot more that could be done. It had become a wait-and-see situation with the final results no longer in her control. That didn’t stop her from trying to control the situation. She demanded that things be done as she desperately tried to control what couldn’t be.

“Can I get you anything else?” David asked. It was a question he asked a hundred times a day and he always received the same answer. It had become such an ingrained part of his daily routine that he had to step back and actively think when he heard the little girl’s reply. Nobody had before answered the question the way that she did, and David didn’t know how he should respond.

The wave crashed and hit the sandcastle head-on. The sandcastle began to melt under the waves force and as the wave receded, half the sandcastle was gone. The next wave hit, not quite as strong, but still managed to cover the remains of the sandcastle and take more of it away. The third wave, a big one, crashed over the sandcastle completely covering and engulfing it. When it receded, there was no trace the sandcastle ever existed and hours of hard work disappeared forever.

He heard the loud impact before he ever saw the result. It had been so loud that it had actually made him jump back in his seat. As soon as he recovered from the surprise, he saw the crack in the windshield. It seemed to be an analogy of the current condition of his life.

Brock would have never dared to do it on his own he thought to himself. That is why Kenneth and he had become such good friends. Kenneth forced Brock out of his comfort zone and made him try new things he’d never imagine doing otherwise. Up to this point, this had been a good thing. It had expanded Brock’s experiences and given him a new appreciation for life. Now that both of them were in the back of a police car, all Brock could think was that he would have never dared do it except for the influence of Kenneth.

She sat in the darkened room waiting. It was now a standoff. He had the power to put her in the room, but not the power to make her repent. It wasn’t fair and no matter how long she had to endure the darkness, she wouldn’t change her attitude. At three years old, Sandy’s stubborn personality had already bloomed into full view.

She counted. One. She could hear the steps coming closer. Two. Puffs of breath could be seen coming from his mouth. Three. He stopped beside her. Four. She pulled the trigger of the gun.