tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47158427238489936212024-02-18T23:26:00.649-08:00Poetry & ProseGwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.comBlogger87125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-78077701058152250882020-03-11T14:53:00.001-07:002020-03-11T14:53:08.979-07:00Time to start blogging again?Well I have a new book out - Marozzo's Dagger<br />
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The book is a study of the various modes of Dagger combat that the 16th century master Achille Marozzo wrote about. My book had a really rocky start and I had to take it out of publication after realising I have typo and grammar errors on the back cover. How we all missed that is beyond me. But the book is now back in print and is available on Amazon.<br />
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For a short bit the book was #1 on the new books on fencing today. Now down to number 4 but that is still good in my estimation.<br />
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Marozzo's Dagger was many years in the making and there were times I thought that it would never be published. I'm glad I was able to complete it. Next will be a kindle version of the book and then translations of some unknown works. Will I finish this year? Have to see.<br />
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On other writing projects, I am still working on Mask of Vapours which is an erotic thriller set in an alternate earth timeline. It is a steampunk novel about a man who works for a secret firm out of England who is hunting a dangerous operative working for the Kaiser.<br />
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So, I'll be busy writing and working on other projects.Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-56445210035881947202018-04-06T08:31:00.001-07:002018-04-06T08:31:32.902-07:00Has it really been that longIt's been a long time since I wrote any poetry. My spare time has been filled with writing fiction. Victorian Fantasy in fact. I need to get back to some poetry. Time to "think think think" as Pooh says.<br />
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<br />Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-63679253335967513752015-07-06T15:33:00.001-07:002015-07-06T15:33:46.643-07:00To the prune<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Oh thou sickly sweet and mushy beastie</span><br style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Some would say thou art so tasty</span><br style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">But as I eat ye I hope thou might</span><br style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Do thy best to release my shite</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br />And as I lay so late at night<br />I pray that soon I might<br />Find blessed release from being bound<br />And sweet satisfaction may be found</span>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-64843818871043437682015-07-06T15:32:00.002-07:002015-07-06T15:32:44.405-07:00I fought Last Night<div style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
I fought last night<br />Begging Her to take me home<br />My pain reflected in Her eyes<br />She would not take my hand, yet</div>
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Like a knife biting deep<br />I writhed and called Her name<br />Known to me from long ago<br />When She offered Her hand</div>
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I lay there, contemplating<br />Why continue to fight?<br />Do I have it in me?<br />I look for Her hand</div>
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Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-90582068013888922882014-08-16T17:13:00.001-07:002014-08-16T17:13:10.443-07:00Winter Haiku<div>Leaf falls to the ground</div><div>Signals winter's frozen death</div><div>As grey hair foretells</div><div><br></div>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-82859144983931375502014-08-14T21:48:00.000-07:002014-08-14T21:48:12.294-07:00Haiku<span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">New life together,</span><br style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Spring brings new flowers and love,</span><br style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">life will now blossom.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I wrote this one before and used unfold instead of blossom. Blossom is better.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-40932982046235332912014-06-08T16:07:00.001-07:002014-06-08T16:07:20.215-07:00Conflicted<span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">A poem by Gwylym</span><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$1:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$3:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$4:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">Conflicted</span><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$5:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$6:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">Heart says believe</span><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$7:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$8:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">Intellect says nothing there</span><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$9:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$10:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">Yet, the heart at times knows</span><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$11:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$12:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">Feelings and promptings... Something there?</span><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$13:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$14:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">Who really knows?</span><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$15:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$16:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">Could something really be there?</span><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$17:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$18:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">The heart wants to believe</span><br data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$19:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;" /><span data-reactid=".2a.1:3:1:$comment10152527304268217_10152528203958217:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$20:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.288000106811523px;">Conflicted.</span>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-4056155087704458772014-05-30T16:17:00.001-07:002014-05-30T16:17:36.934-07:00Caring for one's heartOn the 11th I am going in for surgery again. I really want them to fix me so I can get my life back.<div><br></div><div>On the writing front, am inserting images and doing editing on my sidesword book. I am also trying to get the first draft of my new novella done before the surgery, so I can get it off to my editor. H ave between five and ten thousand words to add. So, a bunch of work in the next week.</div>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-48713589470052659472014-04-27T21:38:00.002-07:002014-04-27T21:38:22.424-07:00Changes<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.63636302947998px; line-height: 17.563634872436523px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Changes<br />By Gwylym</div>
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What did Bowie say?<br />But does it matter anyway?<br />Do we we really have it made?<br />God loves the rich is what he said<br />How do we face the strain?<br />When our life is like the rain<br />Trying to change the world<br />When winds of life blow and swirl<br />Yeah, does it matter anyway?<br />As we live from day to day.</div>
Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-57661632353248174102014-03-10T23:17:00.001-07:002014-03-10T23:17:04.445-07:00Sal<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Sal didn't think bout it much when the news reporter commented on the riots in New York City and around the globe. Riots seemed to be the norm these days. The bad thing was that the current riots were all violent, with police forces being completely overwhelmed. New York City had called out the National Guard to assist with the problem. She shook her head and wondered how bad things would get.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Turning off the TV, Sal decided to do something a little more productive. She had apples that needed picking and they wouldn't pick themselves. The day was warm for late September, so she opted to leave her coat inside. Looking at the trees, she realised she didn't have enough bushel baskets. She'd have to round up more. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">As she placed her baskets in easy to reach locations for each tree, she noticed one of her neighbours walking by with her daughter, so she waved. The daughter was complaining about having to go to school.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"But Mommy, I don't feel good. I want to go home."</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"You don't have a fever sweetie and no cough so you need to go to school. And yes, you have to take your test today. You studied for it."</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Her mom had to take her hand and almost drag her along. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Sal felt sorry for the little girl. Going to school when you were sick was a real chore. Returning to her apples, she began to work up a sweat picking them and taking the baskets down into her basement. She'd be doing a lot of baking and canning. The neighbours would be happy. After taking the last basket down, Sal went to the kitchen and downed a big glass of water. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">It was Tuesday. She smiled when she remembered that a new NCIS was on. She sat down with a bag of white cheddar popcorn and a Mike's Hard Lemonade just in time to watch the opening. Sal always enjoyed NCIS. She couldn't help but like Tony. He was totally the wrong man for her; Tim would be better. She sighed, some day she might find someone compatible enough to live with. But back to the show. They would be in for a challenge tonight. There was a dead man from the Ukraine along with a dead Navy officer. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Half way through the show, a special report interrupted the programming. It was the President. Sal couldn't believe her ears. He was instituting Martial Law. How could he do that? His announcement broke to various accounts of what was happening worldwide. At first she thought that they were just reporting on mass riots. Yet on closer inspection they weren't quite riots. Groups of people were attacking others, almost ripping them limb from limb. One segment showed police and National Guard completely overrun.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The reporter came back and it flipped over to an alert from the CDC. It was the director Tom, Freiden, MD.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"The following cities and their suburbs are under quarantine. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">New York, Boston, Washington, Chicago, Atlanta, Miami, Houston, Phoenix, San Diego, Los Angeles, and Seattle. </span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">Occupants of these cities are to report to the closest FEMA camp which will be announced through your local Emergency Broadcast System. If you are not located in one of these cities, please remain in your homes. Only emergency service personnel and the military are allowed on the streets.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Avoid anyone who appears to be ill or who is exhibiting odd behaviour."</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Sal thought that weird. She had never lived anywhere that had instituted martial law. Walton in the Catskills was fairly remote. Not as remote as some areas in the Adirondacks, but still. She thought it would be best to be ready to bug out if necessary. Sal was a competition shooter. Her specialty was .45 semi-auto. She was also good with a rifle and sporting clays with shotgun. Going to her gun safe first, she took out a colt .45. She loaded four clips and strapped on her holster. She wondered what else would be handy. Perhaps a high powered rifle. She picked out her .270 bolt action. It had a good scope. She put it in a case with five boxes of ammo then took the case and put it on the back seat of her Yukon in the garage. Going back upstairs she took her Remington 870 and put the deer barrel on it. It would be easier to wield with that barrel and would be more accurate with slugs. She took slugs, buckshot, and some number 6 shot as well. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">She thought she could handle most problems with one of the three pieces. Going back out to the garage she put water, a pack tent, stove, rucksack, and sleeping bag in the back. Apples, canned goods, the Mountain House dehydrated food she had on hand would be handy too. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">She went back into the house and looked out the kitchen window. A sheriff's vehicle was going down the road. No one else was out. Strange, as normally kids would be out playing. Sal grabbed her laptop and sat back down in front of the TV. Regular programming was back on so she decided to surf the net to see what she could find.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">CNN and the BBC had video of the riots. Everything was taken from a distance so not much detail could be seen. Then she found a new report on MSNBC. Many of the major cities in Europe were panicked with most of them now burning. Another report showed video of a street preacher warning of the end times. She would have laughed if things weren't sounding so dire. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Locking the doors wasn't something done in a small town like Walton, but tonight she did. Things just seemed too strange. She took her shotgun and pistol upstairs with her. Changing into her pj's, she got ready for bed, having decided to read for a while. She wasn't ten pages into the book before she caught herself drifting off. With a big yawn she put the book down and turned off the light. It didn't take long to drift off to sleep. </span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Sal woke with a start. Reaching for her pistol as she awoke, she wondered what it was she had heard. She furtively got out of bed and went to the window. Peeking carefully out the curtains she listened. Gunfire. Here in Walton? That was not something that was at all normal. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She quickly dressed and went downstairs. She'd shower later. Checking the doors and windows everything appeared to be as she had left it the night before. A cooked breakfast would be nice, she thought, so she made herself some coffee, bacon and eggs. She made some toast and loaded the bacon and eggs onto it and ate it like a sandwich as she watched TV. The news was pretty much the same as the day before. More rioting, martial law established in the UK, France and Germany. Australia, Japan, and other areas in the Pacific had closed their borders. New Zealand had even sunk a ship trying to make port. All hands lost.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Sal wondered what the hell could really be going on.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">When she was done eating she cleaned up quickly and went to her front door. She wondered if she should go out or not. The weather was so nice, and she didn't see anyone out so she decided she would chance it. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">It was beautiful outside. But quiet. Way too quiet. She sat down on one of her porch chairs and watched the street. About ten minutes later she could hear a car. It was the Sheriff. He stopped in front of her house and got out. He walked only halfway across her yard and stopped.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"You shouldn't be out Sal."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"I'll be ok Jim. Don't like being cooped up. I heard gunfire earlier. What was up?"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Had to put down some dogs. Rabies by the looks of it. But there was a whole pack of them. Queerest thing. Haven't had an outbreak in a long time. And then just single cases."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Get them all?"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Yeah, but not until Hank got bit. He's at the clinic now."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Bad?"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Nah. Broke the skin though. Doc called in some meds for the rabies. He's being watched in the hospital."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"He should do fine then."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Yep. Well, I should get going."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Take care Jim, and I'll stay here at home."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"OK, good."</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Sal watched Jim get back in his cruiser and drive off. Staying at home did sound like a good idea. A little while later she decided to go back inside. She locked the door just in case and went back to her kitchen. She could start making apple sauce or pies, but she'd have to go to the store for a few things, so thought it best not to even get started on that. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She decided on watching the news again and turned on her TV. It was going to be a long day. The reports on the news networks seemed more dire than the day before. She channel hopped from station to station until she stopped on BBC America. The newscast was covering what looked like a battle on the north side of London. The military were shooting what looked like civilians. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Turning now to David in Manchester we have a report on the conditions there. David? David? Yes, there he is. David, what are conditions in Manchester? Sidney, the condition has worsened since the report this morning. Like most major cities in the UK and on the continent, mass rioting is being met by military units. The police forces have been completely overrun and from what we are able to tell, police have been seen with the rioters. This is happening world-wide. How this will play out is anyone's guess. Wait!"</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Sound cut off but the video feed was still there. Sal could tell the man was yelling out something and then people burst into the room and started attacking the reporting crew. The cameraman tried to record as much as possible but soon was overrun. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Sal was taken aback by the ferocity of the attack. They had such hate and rage in their eyes. And then the channel went dead. She switched to the next news channel that she could find. It was an American station.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"We will be going off the air shortly. The government is shutting down news feeds one by one. This isn't just rioting. It is something worse. The last report we had from the CDC said..."</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Another channel dead. One by one the channels went out. Static. Just static. She was worried. What could be happening? And what would happen here. She had to find out what was going on. She grabbed her shotgun and went into the garage. Starting her Yukon, she decided she would head to the hospital. It felt like her garage door was taking forever to open. She pulled out quickly, pressing the button to re-close the door. It would only take a few minutes to get there. She drove quickly, above the speed limit, as no one was out on the roads. When she came to the bridge over the river, she could see a group of people on the middle of the bridge. It looked like they were beating someone laying on the ground with whatever they had in hand. They heard her engine and one yelled and pointed and they started running towards her. There were at least five of them. Like the ones she saw on TV, these seemed to be filled with rage. She recognised two of them. She slammed it into reverse and floored it, opening the distance between them. She stopped her vehicle in the middle of an intersection so she could see in all directions, opened the door, and stepped out with her shotgun. She loaded up buckshot and racked the slide, chambering a round. As the people ran towards her she put one more round in the magazine as she yelled out, "stop or I will shoot!"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">They continued running forward in a pack. She aimed low at the one in the lead and pulled the trigger. He went down as she took his legs out from under him at maximum distance for the shotgun. She fired three more times knocking three more down. She threw the shotgun back in the truck and drew her pistol, taking the first one in the chest and the second in the head. The one she shot in the chest had staggered back but now started towards her again. She took careful aim and shot him again in the chest. On his left side. He staggered again, took two steps and then pitched over forward. The ones she had just shot in the legs were on their feet again and lumbering towards her. She couldn't believe they were still moving. She finished each of them with a shot to the head. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">What the hell, she thought, as she reloaded her firearms. When she was ready she pressed on to the hospital. She pulled up at the ER and sat looking. She could see people inside but could not tell what they were doing and then someone burst out of the doors. It was the Sheriff. He had his service pistol out and when he saw Sal he waved her off. She rolled down her window and could hear him screaming, "Get away! Now!"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">A group of people rushed out of the doors and took after him. He turned and emptied his pistol into the throng, dropping a few. But not enough. They caught him before he could reload and began ripping him apart.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Sal sat there mouth open. She didn't know what to do. When they finally saw her and started running in her direction she drove off as quickly as she could. She didn't know what to do and was in a panic. Suddenly, almost back to the house, she remembered that old man Caruthers had a short wave radio. She decided to go there first. She pulled into his drive as close to the house as she could. She grabbed her shotgun and ammo belt and ran up to his front door. She began pounding and yelling, "Mister Caruthers, let me in! Please let me in!"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She heard a voice from inside, "Who is it? I have a gun."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"It's Sally! Please let me in!"</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She could hear him unlocking the door and it opened just a little. She could see he had some sort of firearm.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"It's me. Please let me in. Everything has gone to hell."</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">He opened the door and looked around before letting her inside. Locking the door he asked, "What in the blazes is going on?"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"I don't know but it's bad. I had to kill some people that tried to attack me. The Sheriff was killed at the hospital. I saw them ripping him apart."</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The old man shook his head, "Guess it's the end times. Never thought Martha was right when she said that Jesus would come soon."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"I don't know about Jesus, but we're all going to need some major help soon. You still have the shortwave?"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Yeah, I do."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Fire it up. We need to find out what is going on."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The old man led her into a back room. It was full of electronics. He sat down and turned on a bunch of radio equipment. It didn't take long for him to contact someone. They were in New York City.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"What's going on out there?"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The man on the other end responded, "iI's bad. All we've been able to find out is that there is some airborne virus. Looks like it is incredibly virulent. A rabies variant. Takes at least two months to fully develop. Anyone infected transmits the disease for at least a month. No one seems to know where it came from, but it has spread worldwide. One source said it looks like one percent of the population is immune. At most. Of the ones that get it a few survive the virus. If you aren't immune, you become a raging maniac. Seems like the infected will ignore other fully infected but will attack anyone not in the rage. Heard something about pheromones or something. A few of us are holed up here at the top of a high-rise. We're waiting it out. The ones in the rage succumb in a couple of weeks."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Damn," said Caruthers, "thanks for the info. And good luck. We're in the Catskills. Things aren't good here either."</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The old man turned off his set, "This is bad. Wonder if we've got it"</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">If Sal felt worried before, she felt even worse now, "I don't know. No way to know."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Well, let's get something to eat. Might as well hole up here. At least we're armed."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Yeah. And it just isn't a head shot that will take them down. I killed at least one with a shot to the chest."</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Good. Not quite like the zombie shows."</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The two went to his kitchen and started to cook. Then the power went out. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"Damn," he said, "Looks like we're eating cold food."</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Sal didn't feel like eating. In fact the whole situation made her pretty angry. What the hell, she thought. I had a pretty good life. Was doing well on the shooting team I was on. Had a good income. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The more she thought the angrier she got. She thought she'd like to just beat someone, and then she stopped. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">"What am I doing?" she muttered. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The old man looked at her and asked, "What do you mean?"</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">It was like she was watching herself from some place else. She drew her pistol and fired, killing him instantly. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She was so surprised she threw her pistol on the floor and stood up. She could feel herself screaming uncontrollably. But she couldn't stop herself. She wanted to kill.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Hurrying out the front door, she ran to the street. No one. NOT A SINGLE PERSON! She was livid. She tried to calm herself down but couldn't. Then she remembered. People at the hospital. She began to run again. She felt strong. Invincible. And so angry. It was their fault she was in this situation. She would show them!</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She reached the bridge. A discarded baseball bat was there and she picked it up. Half way across the bridge she stopped. What little was left of her intellect forced her to stop. She could hear herself asking out loud, "What am I doing? What is happening to me? I can't. I just can't."</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She walked to the rail. The water looked so inviting. It flowed beneath the bridge and seemed so inviting to part of her. The part deep inside that was trying to swim to the surface. Swim? Yes, she should go for a swim. She threw herself off the bridge into the water. She hit in a jumble of limbs and went below the surface. The shock forced her to draw in a deep breath. The little spark of her still there tried to let out a sound but she faded into the black.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-29978737965848907932014-02-23T21:18:00.003-08:002014-02-23T21:18:30.050-08:00DiscriminationDiscrimination<br />
By Gwylym<br />
<br />
Tears shed<br />
A child is dead<br />
Caught in a fight<br />
Between left and right<br />
A sign on the wall<br />
Service not for all<br />
A religious right<br />
To show God's might<br />
As they see it<br />
For those not fit<br />
They live in a way<br />
"Not for us!" They say<br />
A doctor stays his hand<br />
"Please help!" They demand<br />
A child is dead<br />
And tears are shed<br />
<br />Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-36166529959349099132013-12-16T15:02:00.001-08:002013-12-16T15:02:01.782-08:00Psalms<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">A Psalm of Remembrance</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Lady, we remember you, an exile in Babylon.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">We seek the day of your liberation.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">As an errant child, we have left the one who loves us dearly.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Your tears of longing for your children has washed the land.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />Your sorrows at our travails brings sadness to your heart.<br /><br />Goddess of hearth and home, we go to knock on your door and find it open.<br /><br />Your hand is held out to us with no stipulations.<br />Take us back in and hold us in your heart.<br /><br />We praise your name forever, Queen of Heaven.</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">A Psalm of Praise<br /><br />Blessed Lady, you have protected me from the raging water.<br /><br />Berucha at Asherah Elahotaynu.<br /><br />Blessed Goddess, As a mother nurtures her child, you have fed my soul.<br /><br />I sing praises to your holy Name, for no anger do you have for me.<br /><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br />Watch over me always as the mother bird hovers over her chicks.<br /><br />Walk with me and guide me past the treacherous cliffs above the waters.<br /><br />O lady, I praise your name forever.</span></span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /></span></span>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-38869125163054365872013-03-06T14:57:00.001-08:002013-03-06T14:57:10.602-08:00twilighttwilight<br />
light fades into the dark<br />
remembering the day<br />
all the things that were done<br />
the twilight deepens<br />
was there enough<br />
who remembers all that was done during the light?<br />
little things<br />
forgotten in time<br />
fading<br />
disappearing into<br />
twilight<br />
<br />Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-50762455484036077752013-01-24T08:07:00.001-08:002013-01-24T08:07:09.504-08:00Contemplazione<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Crepuscolo della vita</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Contemplando il passato</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Tanto </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;" /><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Perché la malattia<br />Perché il dolore<br />Pensiero<br />Oscurità adombra<br />Vuoto viene<br />Dormire</span>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-8491695548077863102013-01-23T08:40:00.003-08:002013-01-23T08:40:46.065-08:00Soul's dark night<br />
Soul's dark vision<br />
embattled day and night<br />
marking no division<br />
of life's daily fight<br />
How can one make revision<br />
but to death take flight<br />
making a hard decision<br />
yet can it be right?<br />
so continue on one's mission<br />
trying to bask in light<br />
selfishness not to envision<br />
but holding on to night<br />
Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-65564605131149563302013-01-11T08:12:00.001-08:002013-01-11T08:12:20.334-08:00Storm Over Nepal
<br />
<div class="p1">
Storm over Nepal</div>
<div class="p1">
by William "Gwylym" Wilson</div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
The brilliant lightning flash blinded the Captain as the crack of the thunder deafened him</div>
<div class="p1">
and the crew. The winds tossed the airship about like a rag doll held in a running child's</div>
<div class="p1">
hand. The Captain spun the wheel back and forth trying to make the best of a deadly</div>
<div class="p1">
situation. Reading the winds was near impossible now that they were in the midst of the</div>
<div class="p1">
storm. Would there be an eye to give them some respite? No telling, but he hoped</div>
<div class="p1">
beyond hope that it would be the case.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Stel! Give me a heading!" he called out over the roar of the storm. Despite the windows</div>
<div class="p1">
being intact, it was hard to hear over the cacophony on the bridge.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Make south-southwest Sir!" was all he could make out as another thunderclap rocked</div>
<div class="p1">
the ship.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean looked back to the Navigator as she pored over the map, trying to determine a</div>
<div class="p1">
course to set. She looked up - fear etched into her features - before turning back to the</div>
<div class="p1">
map. He shook his head. This was by far the worst storm he had ever been in. He</div>
<div class="p1">
flinched automatically as another brilliant flash lit up the dark roiling clouds and</div>
<div class="p1">
wondered if they would survive the night.</div>
<div class="p1">
The pilot lay in the infirmary in a coma, so Sean had to pilot the airship himself. One</div>
<div class="p1">
elevatorman was lost overboard and three marines killed during the initial conflict.</div>
<div class="p1">
Others were wounded. Damn the pirates for putting him into this situation. But it was</div>
<div class="p1">
also partially his fault; he had left warnings unheeded.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean thought back to how this all started as he fought with the wheel...</div>
<div class="p1">
Stel took readings before checking the maps as she watched the terrain below for a</div>
<div class="p1">
moment. "We should be just passing Lalita Patum, Sir." she called out as they flew over</div>
<div class="p1">
a small city. Since crossing into India they had passed over many small cities and</div>
<div class="p1">
towns. Tall mountains loomed ahead but they would not need worry about crossing over</div>
<div class="p1">
them as their destination lay just ahead.</div>
<div class="p1">
The south and western portions of Nepal were jungle interspersed with agricultural</div>
<div class="p1">
areas just like northern India. The verdant landscape called many in the crew. The</div>
<div class="p1">
exotic had its draw and an adventurous life spoke to many.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Start to take us down to three hundred meters." called out the Captain. They would</div>
<div class="p1">
have to search a bit for the airship berth, not having visited this area in the past. He had</div>
<div class="p1">
taken on a mission, a type that he had before; Transfer of documents. This mission</div>
<div class="p1">
came as a bit of a surprise as he normally worked for the British Government.</div>
<div class="p1">
Many weeks before he had finished an assignment for the Crown. Most of the crew</div>
<div class="p1">
were on leave while his airship was in dock for repairs. Even with the work that had to</div>
<div class="p1">
be done, the crew still had a sizeable amount for pay. The Captain paid his men well,</div>
<div class="p1">
knowing that well paid crew made for a hard working crew.</div>
<div class="p1">
As he sat eating his roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, a man in a turban, wearing a tan</div>
<div class="p1">
coloured suit, approached his table and simply sat down. Sean raised an eyebrow and</div>
<div class="p1">
frowned at the man, but before he was able to say anything the man said, "Captain</div>
<div class="p1">
Armstrong, your reputation has preceded you and I would like to hire you for a, let us</div>
<div class="p1">
say, Delicate mission." his speech was impeccable, a British accent and yet there was a</div>
<div class="p1">
tinge of the orient. Indian?</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean looked at the man quizzically and said, "Go on."</div>
<div class="p1">
This was not the way he was normally approached. Typically it would be a letter by post;</div>
<div class="p1">
A request for a meeting with contact information. The letters would come in when he</div>
<div class="p1">
was in dock, so his interest was piqued at this new approach and he would at least</div>
<div class="p1">
listen to the proposal as he could always say no.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Are you familiar with the Kot Massacre that took place about fifty years ago?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"No, don't believe so." replied Sean.</div>
<div class="p1">
"It was a time of upheaval. King Rajendra of Nepal was deposed and his son Surendra</div>
<div class="p1">
Bikram Shah was put on the throne, starting the Shah dynasty."</div>
<div class="p1">
"So what does old history have to do with me working for you?"</div>
<div class="p1">
The man took a look about and then leaned in and whispered, "There is an element</div>
<div class="p1">
within Nepal that wishes to see a change."</div>
<div class="p1">
"So?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"I represent a leader of a group in Nepal that is intent on restoring the old borders which</div>
<div class="p1">
includes lands that his family owned previously. The Khanal family was instrumental in</div>
<div class="p1">
establishing trade starting in the 18th century and lost a sizeable fortune to the East</div>
<div class="p1">
India Company. We have information and other items that need to be delivered to</div>
<div class="p1">
Katmandu in Nepal."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Alright, if I take on the work, what is in it for me?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"My benefactor is prepared to pay you ten thousand pounds sterling and in addition to</div>
<div class="p1">
that, upgrade your airship with newer engines and armament."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean scratched his chin and thought for a moment. Ten thousand pounds was a lot of</div>
<div class="p1">
money. He could even invest a bit of it in goods in the orient to bring back and sell which</div>
<div class="p1">
could turn even more profit for the ship.</div>
<div class="p1">
"We understand your crew uses Webley pistols and Martini-Henry rifles. We will be glad</div>
<div class="p1">
to supply you with ten of the new Mauser C96 semi-automatic pistols and thirty of the</div>
<div class="p1">
new Lee-Enfield magazine fed rifles. Two fifty-five millimetre rifled cannon with six</div>
<div class="p1">
mounts are available. The mounts offer speedy repositioning as they have quick release</div>
<div class="p1">
hardware. This should help in the event of difficulties."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean nodded and wondered how the hell the man knew what kinds of arms they carried</div>
<div class="p1">
but quickly left that thought as the prospect of increasing their firepower sunk in.</div>
<div class="p1">
"... and so my agents will install the mounts in two days and the remainder of the</div>
<div class="p1">
supplies and arms will be delivered the morning of your departure. Is this amenable?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes, I believe so." answered the Captain, hoping that he had not missed anything</div>
<div class="p1">
important.</div>
<div class="p1">
With a simple nod of his head the man disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean scratched his head and wondered what he had gotten himself into. India was part</div>
<div class="p1">
of the Empire and the East India Company was very powerful with agents and offices all</div>
<div class="p1">
over the globe. At a minimum it would be an interesting enterprise. He almost scowled</div>
<div class="p1">
visibly when he considered the implications of being on the bad side of the East India</div>
<div class="p1">
Company. Weighing the pros and the cons he decided that the risk would be worth it. If</div>
<div class="p1">
things went bad enough he could always look for employ in the American west moving</div>
<div class="p1">
the same types of information and goods. South America would be an option as well.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean finished his dinner and foregoing an after dinner sherry, he left the Victoria Hotel</div>
<div class="p1">
and took a coach back to the aerodrome. A skeleton crew was all that was left on board.</div>
<div class="p1">
One of the marines patrolled the deck while the other crew members continued to work</div>
<div class="p1">
on the vessel. Repairs were being affected on part of the rigging and also on the hull</div>
<div class="p1">
which had been damaged in an altercation. Twin balloons rose above the hull which</div>
<div class="p1">
resembled a sailing ship. The notable differences between the SkyLark and a normal</div>
<div class="p1">
sailing ship were the balloons, and the propellor drives mounted on the hull.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean retired to his stateroom and sat at his desk going over the books. His prior mission</div>
<div class="p1">
covered the current expenses and payroll, except for himself. He smiled slightly as he</div>
<div class="p1">
thought of the profit from the next mission. He did have reserves in the Bank of</div>
<div class="p1">
England, to the sum of approximately fifty thousand pounds, which would allow him to</div>
<div class="p1">
live comfortably for many years. But he did not want just comfortable, he wanted to be</div>
<div class="p1">
able to travel and live the high life. It was potentially in his sight if he could continue to</div>
<div class="p1">
land these high paying jobs.</div>
<div class="p1">
Locking the books back in his cabinet, he started to pour over a copy of the manifest</div>
<div class="p1">
that had been left for him by his Purser. Currently the hold was almost empty. Perhaps a</div>
<div class="p1">
load of finished goods could be procured for a good price through one of their contacts.</div>
<div class="p1">
Additionally, if some sort of conflict was coming, arms trade would prove lucrative as</div>
<div class="p1">
well. The ship could easily carry a ton of goods. Sean began writing down some items</div>
<div class="p1">
and numbers as he talked to himself...</div>
<div class="p1">
"Let's see. Maybe ten, fifty pound, barrels of powder, mixed cannon and rifle grade.</div>
<div class="p1">
Perhaps a couple of crates of Martini-Henry Henry rifles as well. Ammo. Better take that</div>
<div class="p1">
Too. Andrew can take care of the normal trade goods. Finished clothing and maybe</div>
<div class="p1">
some bolts of cloth would be good for our destination."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean decided it would be best for him to take care of arranging for the arms and</div>
<div class="p1">
ammunition. "Two days." He thought. If they got on it first thing in the morning they may</div>
<div class="p1">
be able to leave shortly after the mounts were installed and all cargo and transfer goods</div>
<div class="p1">
were on board.</div>
<div class="p1">
The next morning Sean met with the Purser and authorised the purchase of trade</div>
<div class="p1">
goods. They would be loaded down for the trip to Nepal but the load would be worth it.</div>
<div class="p1">
The opportunity to make new trade contacts could benefit the ship later.</div>
<div class="p1">
After the meeting Sean found the master of the watch, "Order the crew back on board.</div>
<div class="p1">
We have a new assignment and will be leaving in just a few days. An extra tenner for</div>
<div class="p1">
each crewman that makes it back by this evening."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes Sir. Will get right to it."</div>
<div class="p1">
As he disembarked he could hear the master calling for the cabin boy. The kid was a</div>
<div class="p1">
good runner and should be able to round everyone up quick.</div>
<div class="p1">
Some of Sean's contacts lived or had their "businesses" near Frying Pan Alley down in</div>
<div class="p1">
the East End. He was very familiar with the area which was primarily frequented by less</div>
<div class="p1">
savoury individuals. At least that was the nicest way to put it. He caught a Hansom</div>
<div class="p1">
down as close as the driver would take him and then continued on foot. Sean fit in with</div>
<div class="p1">
the people walking the street; he wore canvas work pants, short boots, off-white shirt,</div>
<div class="p1">
vest, and cap. A small bag was slung over one shoulder where he had a Webley</div>
<div class="p1">
stowed. He also carried a derringer in his vest pocket opposite his pocket watch. One</div>
<div class="p1">
other item that he also carried, especially when going into the East End, was a stout</div>
<div class="p1">
shillelagh. There were more than few times that he had to crack a head with it to get out</div>
<div class="p1">
of a tough situation.</div>
<div class="p1">
The streets throughout London were dirty, but they appeared clean in comparison to the</div>
<div class="p1">
East End. Muck filled the gutters and at times the sewers overflowed and ran down the</div>
<div class="p1">
streets. The buildings were dingy and ill-kept, paint peeling from the wood that actually</div>
<div class="p1">
had been painted, and bricks covered with years of grime from the coal fired furnaces.</div>
<div class="p1">
The inhabitants weren't any better. Buxom floozies strutted about on the street corners</div>
<div class="p1">
trying to sell their "wares", apparently not seeing a spot of water on their skin in</div>
<div class="p1">
decades, waifs playing kick the can in the middle of the street wearing the same</div>
<div class="p1">
clothing they had put on months or possibly years before, men wearing their work</div>
<div class="p1">
clothes day and night, while the occasional individual could be seen that wore a slightly</div>
<div class="p1">
finer cut.</div>
<div class="p1">
As Sean passed one bushel bubbie she called out "Come on gov'ner, how about givin</div>
<div class="p1">
this girl a green gown?" Smiling and shaking his head at her he continued on down the</div>
<div class="p1">
street to his destination as she looked to the next John that she might be able to make a</div>
<div class="p1">
few shillings off of.</div>
<div class="p1">
Walking up to what looked like an old factory front, Sean knocked on the small door to</div>
<div class="p1">
the right of the main doors that allowed egress by wagons. The door opened and a</div>
<div class="p1">
swarthy man looked him over and then let him enter. After peering about outside quickly</div>
<div class="p1">
the man closed and bolted the door and led Sean to the office.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Sean lad, how be ya?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Doing well Jimmie. And how is the missus?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Always askin fer ma last quid Sean."</div>
<div class="p1">
The Captain laughed at that and got directly down to business, "I'm in need of some</div>
<div class="p1">
cargo Jimmie. I'm delivering some goods and where I am going could use some</div>
<div class="p1">
firearms and powder. Cannon and musket grade powder. What might you have?"</div>
<div class="p1">
Jimmie smiled, "Well you're in luck. Ah have sumpin ya might be intersted in. I came</div>
<div class="p1">
across one of them new gov'ment machine guns with a crate of 100 belts for it. Ah think</div>
<div class="p1">
they call it a Maxim. Nevah bin fired."</div>
<div class="p1">
"What else you have? Or can you get?"</div>
<div class="p1">
Jimmie scratched his chin, "Ah have a friend who has a wagon load of Martini-Henry</div>
<div class="p1">
rifles he needs to get rid of quick. Could get a good deal on them given the right finder</div>
<div class="p1">
fee, if ya get me drift?"</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean laughed, "Aye Jimmie."</div>
<div class="p1">
The two continued to discuss business as Jimmie's assistant poured some Irish Whisky</div>
<div class="p1">
for them. At the conclusion of their business the two shot back their drinks and shook</div>
<div class="p1">
hands.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ya wanna pick up the goods or get them delivered?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Delivered will be best Jimmie. I'll have the payment for you on delivery."</div>
<div class="p1">
The doorman showed Sean out and he proceeded back to a less wretched part of town</div>
<div class="p1">
by a different route. It was always best to take different routes in and out when going</div>
<div class="p1">
through the East End. Striding down the street, he slipped between the people moving</div>
<div class="p1">
about the area and avoided the wagons and steam vehicles that were on their way.</div>
<div class="p1">
As he sidestepped into an alley to make it over to the next street, something caught his</div>
<div class="p1">
eye. He had made eye contact with someone who turned a little to quickly away. The</div>
<div class="p1">
man looked like a local bludger, clothing one step higher on the scale than the locals</div>
<div class="p1">
who lived and worked in the area. He wasn't about to be done down by a ne'er do well</div>
<div class="p1">
and was glad that he carried his barker along with his derringer. There was no hope of</div>
<div class="p1">
seeing an Escop in this part of town so he was on his own.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean quickened his pace, being ever vigilant to watch for spots where he might be</div>
<div class="p1">
ambushed. Turning another corner he stole a glance back and saw three mug-hunters</div>
<div class="p1">
now on his track. Cutting down another alley he broke into a run to increase the</div>
<div class="p1">
distance between himself and his pursuers. Turning onto another street he saw them</div>
<div class="p1">
just turn into the alley and break into a run themselves. He was able to dash quickly into</div>
<div class="p1">
another alley that cut back in the direction he had just come from. Half way down he</div>
<div class="p1">
stopped. It was blocked.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Devil's Nebuchadnezzar" he muttered as he took out his Webley and stowed it in his</div>
<div class="p1">
belt at his back.</div>
<div class="p1">
A few moments later the three ran around the corner and spying him slowed down and</div>
<div class="p1">
walked toward him.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Afternoon boys. What may I do for you?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Well Gov, you ken give us thet satchel and your wallet."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean shook his head, "Don't think so boys. I'm no mark for the easy pickings."</div>
<div class="p1">
Holding up his shillelagh in his left hand, he made it appear he was ready to defend</div>
<div class="p1">
himself.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Now Gov, doan make it hard on us." At that the three pulled out knives and walked</div>
<div class="p1">
forward slowly. About twenty paces away the three broke into a run. Taking two steps</div>
<div class="p1">
back Sean pulled out his revolver and fired twice as the third man came within striking</div>
<div class="p1">
distance. Sean sidestepped and bashed the man's hand that held the knife and pulled</div>
<div class="p1">
the trigger a third time opening a hole in the side of the man's chest. Walking slowly</div>
<div class="p1">
back to the lead man, he reloaded his Webley, and kicked the man's knife away before</div>
<div class="p1">
squatting down next to him.</div>
<div class="p1">
The man lay in the alley's refuse, pain etched into his features. He had been hit dead</div>
<div class="p1">
centre. The man held his belly and moaned as Sean asked, "Someone send you or</div>
<div class="p1">
were you working on your own?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"You kilt me Gov..." Was all he could get out before his eyes glazed over.</div>
<div class="p1">
Standing quickly, he looked over the scene. One dead, the other two dead or dying. The</div>
<div class="p1">
one he shot first lay at a weird angle in the street not moving. Dead for sure. He stowed</div>
<div class="p1">
his iron back in his satchel and walked quickly back to the street. True to form, no one</div>
<div class="p1">
paid immediate attention to an altercation. The bodies would be looted soon after he</div>
<div class="p1">
left.</div>
<div class="p1">
Was this a chance encounter or due to the meeting he had? With the three dead there</div>
<div class="p1">
was no way to know for sure. He would have to be vigilant - how many new enemies</div>
<div class="p1">
would he accrue working for the Nepalese? Time would tell.</div>
<div class="p1">
Travel back to the aerodrome went without additional incident and the ship was awhirl</div>
<div class="p1">
with activity in preparation for their departure. Sean found the Purser first, "Keep watch</div>
<div class="p1">
for Jimmie, he has a special shipment for us. Arms and powder." Andrew smiled and</div>
<div class="p1">
nodded knowing that you didn't ask Jimmie where his wares came from, "Yes Sir. I've</div>
<div class="p1">
been able to line up some prospects for other cargo at good prices. We should be able</div>
<div class="p1">
to easily turn a profit."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Good. And Andrew, good work lad. There'll be a bonus for you if we do well."</div>
<div class="p1">
Andrew tipped his head and went back to work. He was intent on making that bonus.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean checked on the rest of the preparations. Repairs were going well and all of the</div>
<div class="p1">
crew had reported for duty. A few looked a little worse for wear from a hard first night out</div>
<div class="p1">
drinking but they got to work with the rest. Some of the rigging for the twin balloons had</div>
<div class="p1">
to be replaced. A long trip most likely would stress the current to the breaking point.</div>
<div class="p1">
Especially if they encountered storms. The hull also had to be repaired in places as they</div>
<div class="p1">
had taken some small arms fire the job before last while in Morocco.</div>
<div class="p1">
That evening the master of the watch knocked on Sean's stateroom door.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Come in."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Excuse me Sir. Just wanted to make you aware of something."</div>
<div class="p1">
"What is it George?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Looks like we're being watched."</div>
<div class="p1">
"How many?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"One at a time as far as I can tell. But through the day there have been at least three.</div>
<div class="p1">
One is still out there. They are paying close attention to the shipments coming in. Saw</div>
<div class="p1">
one of them talking to a driver after they dropped off goods."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Keep a watch on them. Might also want to have one of the marines dress down and</div>
<div class="p1">
see if they can follow them."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
The next day saw an increase in the number of wagons coming to the ship; supplies,</div>
<div class="p1">
repair materials, trade goods and two wagons from Jimmie. Andrew made sure the</div>
<div class="p1">
powder was stowed central to the ship with plenty of crates stacked around it to help</div>
<div class="p1">
protect it in case of a fight. The firearms and ammunition were put in an accessible</div>
<div class="p1">
location just in case.</div>
<div class="p1">
Near tea time one of the marines approached Sean, "Pardon Capin, George asked me</div>
<div class="p1">
to report to you direct Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ah follow'd two o' them spies Sir. They walked a ways and then were picked up by a</div>
<div class="p1">
coach. Same driver each time. No markings Sir and Ah had no way to follow them. The</div>
<div class="p1">
area they were picked up didna hah a Hansom handy."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Alright, thank you. Continue to keep a lookout and make sure you carry a barker with</div>
<div class="p1">
you while on duty."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean sat and thought, "Who the hell could they be? East India Company? Another</div>
<div class="p1">
party?" He shook his head and wondered yet again what he was getting himself into.</div>
<div class="p1">
As he sat there, he continued to pour over maps so he could do an initial plan of their</div>
<div class="p1">
journey. Stella would make the final route... Paris, Geneva, Athens, Jerusalem or</div>
<div class="p1">
Constantinople, Bombay, and then their final destination - Katmandu. At each major</div>
<div class="p1">
stop they would take on water and fresh food. At the eastern stops past Greece, they</div>
<div class="p1">
might be able to do some trade. Perhaps pick up spices in trade for some of their cloth</div>
<div class="p1">
and other finished goods. The firearms and powder would be reserved for Katmandu.</div>
<div class="p1">
After finishing his paperwork Sean went to check on the other preparations with the</div>
<div class="p1">
Purser and the Chief Engineer.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Andrew, how goes the cargo?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Almost all on board now Sir. We should be ready for departure on this end by noon</div>
<div class="p1">
tomorrow."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Good, let me know when we're set. Hopefully the repairs and upgrades will be</div>
<div class="p1">
complete by the end of tomorrow."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean left the Purser's stateroom to go and find the chief. Jock had been with him the</div>
<div class="p1">
longest of all the crew. In fact, he came with the ship when Sean acquired it. Jock had a</div>
<div class="p1">
shock of red hair and spoke in an almost unintelligible Scottish brogue. He was a</div>
<div class="p1">
mechanic and engineer of the highest calibre. It seemed like there was nothing that he</div>
<div class="p1">
couldn't fix.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Jock, how go the repairs?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ach laddie, we ur almost dain. Nae later than end ay tha' moorns nicht. Depends when</div>
<div class="p1">
th' plonkers brin' th' goods."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Thanks Jock. Let me know of any changes."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Och, aye Keptin."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean stood at the rail and looked towards the warehouses. He wondered who it was</div>
<div class="p1">
that could be interested in them and was the attack at the East End related. As he stood</div>
<div class="p1">
there George came up to him.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Sir, Clarence, the marine we had following the spies has not checked back in. This isn't</div>
<div class="p1">
like him. I fear the worst."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean shook his head, "Send Bobbie out. Perhaps he can drum up some information."</div>
<div class="p1">
George nodded, "Yes Sir." And went off to find the cabin boy.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Not good." Sean said to himself as he went back to his stateroom. He would need to</div>
<div class="p1">
get up with the dawn so he decided on an early night. He could wait till the morning for</div>
<div class="p1">
the report, if there was one.</div>
<div class="p1">
The early morning sun woke Sean out of a dead sleep. He could already hear work</div>
<div class="p1">
being performed on board. Dressing quickly he put on his sidearm and went to the</div>
<div class="p1">
galley. The cook had eggs and a few rashers of bacon cooked up. He toasted some</div>
<div class="p1">
bread for the Captain too as he sat with a cup of coffee and a plateful of eggs and</div>
<div class="p1">
bacon.</div>
<div class="p1">
By the time Sean had finished with breakfast, the Nepalese engineers were working on</div>
<div class="p1">
the engines. He found Andrew on deck talking to the same man who had approached</div>
<div class="p1">
him while at dinner. As he walked up the man turned and gave a quick bow and</div>
<div class="p1">
extended his hand.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Captain Armstrong."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Good day Mr......"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Aditya. Himal Aditya."</div>
<div class="p1">
"A pleasure. I believe once the upgrades are completed and your deliveries are</div>
<div class="p1">
complete, we will be ready to depart. Correct Andrew?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Correct Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
Mr. Aditya nodded and asked "Is there somewhere we may talk in private?"</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean nodded "Follow me."</div>
<div class="p1">
The bridge of the airship was at the front of the ship with a secondary on the</div>
<div class="p1">
superstructure at the aft of the ship. The forward bridge was enclosed with thick</div>
<div class="p1">
windows that could be opened if desired. This allowed the Captain, Pilot, and Navigator</div>
<div class="p1">
to guide the airship in relative comfort. Sean closed the door after Aditya entered the</div>
<div class="p1">
bridge. The airship itself resembled an actual sailing ship with sleek lines. Twin balloons</div>
<div class="p1">
rose above the superstructure with a tall mast rising up between the two. The rigging</div>
<div class="p1">
was constructed of the finest materials and the hull of sturdy wood. The balloons and</div>
<div class="p1">
the hull above what would be the waterline if it floated were painted or made from bright</div>
<div class="p1">
materials. The airship not only was a functional piece but also a work of art and the</div>
<div class="p1">
Captain demanded the ship be kept spotless and in good repair.</div>
<div class="p1">
The main bridge was also spotless. The pilot's wheel was at the front of the bridge with</div>
<div class="p1">
easy view forward, starboard and port. The Captain's chair stood behind this with the</div>
<div class="p1">
navigator's table at the rear. A single door at the back allowed entry to the room</div>
<div class="p1">
although if necessary one could stand on the captain's chair to open a hatch in the</div>
<div class="p1">
ceiling to the deck above.</div>
<div class="p1">
Aditya opened the conversation as he handed an envelope to Sean, "This is the down</div>
<div class="p1">
payment for your service. It also includes a letter of introduction and a letter of payment</div>
<div class="p1">
for the balance. The letter may be presented to your contact, a Mr. Malakar. He is a</div>
<div class="p1">
government official that may assist you and is one of our supporters. The last thing that</div>
<div class="p1">
we will deliver today is a set of chests and a courier's pouch. These are the materials</div>
<div class="p1">
that must be delivered. Mr. Malakar will arrange for the disposition of the goods."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Very Good. Are we on a timeframe for delivery?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"As soon as feasibly possible without taking unnecessary chances."</div>
<div class="p1">
"That we may do. Rest assured."</div>
<div class="p1">
At that moment a knock on the door interrupted their conversation.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Enter!" Called out the Captain.</div>
<div class="p1">
Andrew entered the bridge with a case and laid it on the navigator's table.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ah wonderful!" Exclaimed Aditya. "Please open it for us"</div>
<div class="p1">
Andrew opened the case and took in a breath when he saw what was inside. Sean</div>
<div class="p1">
looked and saw two items, a custom Enfield magazine fed rifle and a custom Mauser</div>
<div class="p1">
pistol. The stocks were made from fine woods. Instead of a standard military stock on</div>
<div class="p1">
the Enfield, it had a sport stock and looked like it could be used for fancy hunting trips to</div>
<div class="p1">
Africa. Its barrel and action were blued - workmanship exquisite. The Mauser was</div>
<div class="p1">
polished brightly and had a matching holster that held two spare feeding clips with</div>
<div class="p1">
ammunition. Sean smiled when he saw the pieces.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Please, heft them." Said Aditya and so Sean picked up the Enfield first - It truly was</div>
<div class="p1">
beautiful. The rifle included two magazines that were already loaded. The action was</div>
<div class="p1">
smooth and also engraved with scenes from India. He next checked out the Mauser</div>
<div class="p1">
pistol and it felt beautiful in hand as well. Aditya showed him how to load and fire the</div>
<div class="p1">
pieces before readying to leave.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Fair winds Captain. And a speedy return. If this venture turns out well, I may have</div>
<div class="p1">
future employ for you."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean inclined his head "Thank you Sir. It is a pleasure."</div>
<div class="p1">
After the Nepali was shown out by Andrew, Sean continued to gawk at his new toys. He</div>
<div class="p1">
finally put the Enfield back in its case and opted to wear his new pistol, so he divested</div>
<div class="p1">
himself of his Webley, putting it in a side cabinet on the bridge, and put on the holster.</div>
<div class="p1">
He wore his Captain's uniform now - tall boots, jodhpur pants, a white linen shirt, vest,</div>
<div class="p1">
leather jacket and aviator's cap. He also wore a wide belt slung low on his hips which</div>
<div class="p1">
now sported his new holstered Mauser.</div>
<div class="p1">
Later that day as he was overseeing final preparations, Bobbie came up to him and</div>
<div class="p1">
stood off to the side.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes, Bobbie?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ah has some bad news Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Clarence Sir, he be dead Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Unfortunate news. Unfortunate. Go get George for me lad."</div>
<div class="p1">
Bobbie ran off and Sean shook his head. He had never been in a situation quite like</div>
<div class="p1">
this. Spies, killings, plots... Where would it lead to? They were in it now, no matter what.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Excuse me Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean turned as he was brought out of his thoughts "Ah George. I need you to arrange</div>
<div class="p1">
for one more marine before a night departure. Think you can do that?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Will do my best Sir. Clarence was a good man Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
"He had family?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes Sir. But not married. No children. His mother still lives down near the East End."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Have Andrew disburse 20 quid and arrange for it to be delivered. Use one of the</div>
<div class="p1">
aerodrome couriers."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean followed George back up onto the main deck. The mounts for the new cannon</div>
<div class="p1">
were now installed and the piece tested in each mount. As promised it could be quickly</div>
<div class="p1">
moved from mount to mount. The marine's locker had the new arms in place of the</div>
<div class="p1">
Webleys and Martini-Henry's. The older arms were stowed in the crew weapons locker.</div>
<div class="p1">
Like sailing vessels, only the marines were allowed easy access to the weapons lockers</div>
<div class="p1">
and they carried pistols most of the time. Not that Sean worried about his crew being</div>
<div class="p1">
mutinous.</div>
<div class="p1">
At dusk a meeting was held in the officer's mess. Cookie prepared a roast with all the</div>
<div class="p1">
trimmings since they were in port. As Sean dug into the beef, tatties and neeps, Andrew</div>
<div class="p1">
went over the cargo manifest.</div>
<div class="p1">
"... I was able to acquire some fine tea sets as well. Irish. I picked up some Belleek</div>
<div class="p1">
china. Nice looking goods. We can peddle them to one of the purveyors of fine English</div>
<div class="p1">
goods as well in Katmandu. My sources tell me the pieces are favoured in America and</div>
<div class="p1">
Canada so I expect they will go well in Katmandu."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Thank you Andrew."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean looked next, to Jock, "We air worthy?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ach aye, Keptin. Alls set."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean nodded to him and thought for a moment. It would be best to get a jump on things</div>
<div class="p1">
and catch fair winds if they could.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Gentlemen, make sure everyone is on board by the eleventh hour. We'll make a night</div>
<div class="p1">
departure just after midnight. Lights out at half past eleven. George, I want your men on</div>
<div class="p1">
duty by midnight in case of any problems. Issue the new rifles just in case."</div>
<div class="p1">
George answered with a nod of his head and then all went about their respective duties.</div>
<div class="p1">
Jock made sure that the departure preparations were handled as secretively as</div>
<div class="p1">
possible. Stella used one of her contacts to file a lift off time that would not be put on</div>
<div class="p1">
official record until the next day. Two if it could be arranged.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean stood on the deck and looked about. The ship was well outfitted. He hoped that</div>
<div class="p1">
the new engines would be the upgrade they were promised. In case of troubles they</div>
<div class="p1">
would need every bit of speed they could muster. Jock had done a phenomenal job as</div>
<div class="p1">
usual preparing the ship for the next journey. He smiled and thought back to when he</div>
<div class="p1">
had first laid eyes on her. Fresh out of the military, he had just received an inheritance</div>
<div class="p1">
from his father's business. He had been raised in trade and commerce and with his</div>
<div class="p1">
father gone, he would need to settle down to something. Military service helped him</div>
<div class="p1">
grow up and now he had to build upon that base.</div>
<div class="p1">
Derelict ships were often sold for parts. He had gone down to the junk yard and saw a</div>
<div class="p1">
man sitting on a barrel just staring at the ship. He stood next to the man and looked at</div>
<div class="p1">
her. He could see potential. She had been a beautiful craft. What was left of the paint</div>
<div class="p1">
flaked from the hull. The balloons hung like discarded rags over the rails. The only thing</div>
<div class="p1">
rising above the deck was a tall mast in the centre of the ship which appeared to run up</div>
<div class="p1">
between the balloons - the crow's nest near gone.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean finally took a good look at the man. He was old. A shock of red hair still graced his</div>
<div class="p1">
head although the term graced was probably a misnomer. Hard lines criss-crossed his</div>
<div class="p1">
grizzled face. He wore workman's clothing which were worse for wear and Sean thought</div>
<div class="p1">
for a moment that a tear had formed in the old man's eye.</div>
<div class="p1">
"She must have been beautiful in her time"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ach aye, that she was Laddie."</div>
<div class="p1">
"What happened?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Owner scrapped her..."</div>
<div class="p1">
The old man choked a bit and then cleared his throat, but sat silent as he wiped his eye.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Could she be made airworthy again?"</div>
<div class="p1">
The man didn't hesitate a second, "Aye Laddie, ah could mak miracles with the Lass."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean asked "You working now?" to which the man just shook his head.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Want a job fixing her up?"</div>
<div class="p1">
The man swivelled his head to look directly at Sean - one eye squinting to size him up.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Now dontcha be foolin an auld man Lad."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean gave the man a wry grin "Not toying with you old man. You want a job fixing this</div>
<div class="p1">
baby up, you have it."</div>
<div class="p1">
The man nodded once, "When dae we start?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Now?"</div>
<div class="p1">
The man smiled and stood, "Jock's mah nam."</div>
<div class="p1">
"I'll get a contract drawn up."</div>
<div class="p1">
Jock made a disparaging noise and said "Contract? Ainly good for wipin one's arse. Just</div>
<div class="p1">
yur hand Laddie."</div>
<div class="p1">
The two shook hands a a partnership and friendship was born. It took months to get her</div>
<div class="p1">
ready but when Sean inspected her before her first flight she was a work of art. Jock</div>
<div class="p1">
was not only an engineer but an artisan.</div>
<div class="p1">
Once again she was ready to fly.</div>
<div class="p1">
The ship rose silently from dock. Sean stood on the bridge, windows open, and watched</div>
<div class="p1">
as she took to the sky; They would wait till they were well away from the aerodrome</div>
<div class="p1">
before firing up the engines. Over the next hour the Captain allowed them to drift on the</div>
<div class="p1">
wind. Fortuitously there was a breeze blowing east and they were soon out of sight and</div>
<div class="p1">
sound of the aerodrome.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean blew into the communication tube and put his ear to it.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Aye Sir?" Was all he heard from Jock in the engine room.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Fire up the engines and prepare for flank speed."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Aye, aye, Keptin."</div>
<div class="p1">
Within a quarter hour the ship was moving under power and they made for the Dover</div>
<div class="p1">
cliffs and on toward France. Finally fully underway, Sean hoped they had avoided</div>
<div class="p1">
detection as they departed. With no moonlight when they lifted the chance of a hot trod</div>
<div class="p1">
was slim.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Stella set a course for Calais."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Aye Captain."</div>
<div class="p1">
Walking up on deck, Sean let the wind whip through his hair. His leather aviators coat</div>
<div class="p1">
broke the chill as he surveyed the stars and and felt the ship's life. The tesla coil lights</div>
<div class="p1">
were now alight on deck and he thought that from afar the ship must look like a pack of</div>
<div class="p1">
fairies fleeing east.</div>
<div class="p1">
The crew was busy at work with their duties - marines patrolling the deck, engineers</div>
<div class="p1">
maintaining the engines, elevatormen keeping the ship on an even keel. Sean was</div>
<div class="p1">
interrupted from his thoughts by a voice.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Pardon Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
It was Bobbie. He held out a mug. The lad had brought him coffee.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Thank you."</div>
<div class="p1">
The boy was a good addition to the crew. An orphan, Sean had caught him stealing an</div>
<div class="p1">
apple from their fresh produce while cookie was dickering with the green grocer. Taking</div>
<div class="p1">
the boy by the ear he hauled him up on deck and put him under guard by one of the</div>
<div class="p1">
marines. He watched him as he took care of business, the boy sitting there dejected.</div>
<div class="p1">
His clothing was filthy and too small for him. Face one big smudge and hands dirt</div>
<div class="p1">
magnets.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Where do you live boy?"</div>
<div class="p1">
He didn't look up as he answered, "No where."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Hungry?"</div>
<div class="p1">
The boy just nodded.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Lawrence, take him to get something to eat then bring him back to me."</div>
<div class="p1">
About a half hour later the marine brought the boy back, "Here he is Sir. Not sure there</div>
<div class="p1">
is anything left in the larder."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean chuckled as he spoke to the boy, "Lad, you do me right and I'll do you right too.</div>
<div class="p1">
We're your family now. Lawrence will take you to the Purser to get you outfitted with</div>
<div class="p1">
some better clothing. Oh and you'll take a bath. Make that two."</div>
<div class="p1">
The boy looked back and forth between the two not knowing what to think. Sean could</div>
<div class="p1">
use someone who knew the streets and who wouldn't be watched.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Off you go now lad. And hurry. No mucking about."</div>
<div class="p1">
The boy followed Lawrence to the crew quarters as Sean went back to business.</div>
<div class="p1">
Business.</div>
<div class="p1">
His thoughts circled back to the job at hand. It would be prudent to make haste to</div>
<div class="p1">
Katmandu. The less time that they spent in port the less chance of trouble. Things</div>
<div class="p1">
would be dicey enough as they stood. Someone had been watching them and would</div>
<div class="p1">
probably be in pursuit no later than dawn, if not already.</div>
<div class="p1">
As the days progressed the threat of pursuit slipped further and further away. Fair</div>
<div class="p1">
weather and consistent easterlies allowed them to stay on their timetable and to cover</div>
<div class="p1">
the many miles at a goodly pace. They made their planned stops along their way to take</div>
<div class="p1">
on fresh provisions and even did a little bit of trade. It never hurt to find new contacts in</div>
<div class="p1">
that department.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Course?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"North by northwest Sir." Replied Stella.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean nodded to the Pilot who made the course correction. The airship continued along</div>
<div class="p1">
at three hundred meters above the valley floor. The navigational charts of India and</div>
<div class="p1">
Nepal had been vey accurate. They included notes on areas to avoid. He surveyed the</div>
<div class="p1">
air and land ahead. The Jungle had a draw to it. Exotic. Lush. Untamed. He had never</div>
<div class="p1">
served in Nepal while being stationed in southern India for a short stint. The majority of</div>
<div class="p1">
his service was spent in the Middle East and Africa. He had heard that South Africa was</div>
<div class="p1">
becoming a hotbed of activity, so contacts for trade to the east was a good idea. Well it</div>
<div class="p1">
would have been except for being embroiled in the start of another potential conflict.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean sat in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. The gentle rocking of the ship</div>
<div class="p1">
on the breeze was like a child's cradle at times, moving gently to lull one to sleep. A hot</div>
<div class="p1">
breeze coming in through the open windows on the bridge didn't help. They had</div>
<div class="p1">
covered many miles and had been ever vigilant for problems. They would have to</div>
<div class="p1">
redouble their vigilance now that they were approaching their goal. He looked over his</div>
<div class="p1">
shoulder to where Bobbie was normally curled up with a book. True to form, there he</div>
<div class="p1">
was.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Lad, fetch me a mug of coffee."</div>
<div class="p1">
Bobbie jumped up with a "Yes Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
Coffee? Not the preferred hot drink of the British but he had grown accustomed to it on</div>
<div class="p1">
a short tour in Arabia. Its acrid and bitter taste fit his palate as did the fiery foods he had</div>
<div class="p1">
experienced there as well as in India. Moments later Bobbie showed up with his mug.</div>
<div class="p1">
He slowly sipped the hot brew as the ship flew on towards their goal.</div>
<div class="p1">
They took a pass over the city as they looked for the aerodrome which was located west</div>
<div class="p1">
of the city proper in what appeared to be a warehouse district. The architecture of the</div>
<div class="p1">
buildings that they passed over was exotic. They saw residential areas, temples,</div>
<div class="p1">
businesses and at the city centre the government buildings.</div>
<div class="p1">
The airship descended like a feather on a calm day. The crew quickly tethered the</div>
<div class="p1">
vessel and the Captain and Purser disembarked to check in at the main office. Sean</div>
<div class="p1">
was not sure how long they would stay in dock. More than likely just long enough to</div>
<div class="p1">
make the delivery of the documents and to sell as much of the cargo as they were able.</div>
<div class="p1">
"See about the cargo. Also, check if we can take on some tea and spices. Those should</div>
<div class="p1">
sell well back home."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes Sir." replied the Purser as they parted ways to take care of their respective tasks.</div>
<div class="p1">
He entered the main office and walked up to the desk. No one was there but there was</div>
<div class="p1">
a bell on the counter. After ringing it a man came out of an office.</div>
<div class="p1">
"May I help you Sir?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes, I have just put into dock and will need to pay my berthing fees and obtain some</div>
<div class="p1">
information. The name of the ship is the Skylark."</div>
<div class="p1">
"How long will you be staying Sir?"</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean thought for a moment, "hopefully no longer than a week if business goes well."</div>
<div class="p1">
"That will be five Pounds then Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
He thought five Pounds an outrageous fee to pay but had no choice.</div>
<div class="p1">
Passing over the fee, he asked, "How much for a carriage to the city centre?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"You should be able to catch one just outside the gates for a shilling Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Thank you." He responded and walked out the door.</div>
<div class="p1">
It turned out to be easy to hire a carriage. A number were parked just outside the gates</div>
<div class="p1">
as he was told. The drivers vied for the job and Sean was able to secure transport for</div>
<div class="p1">
ten pence.</div>
<div class="p1">
The driver made his way quickly to the destination and dropped Sean off in front of the</div>
<div class="p1">
primary government building. He tipped the driver a couple of extra pence and went in</div>
<div class="p1">
search of the office of this Mr. Malakar. Unfortunately it was just after noon and offices</div>
<div class="p1">
were closed till two. He thought "drat the luck" and decided to go find an inn where he</div>
<div class="p1">
might be able to get a bite to eat.</div>
<div class="p1">
It didn't take him long to find a place - The Golden Tiger - where he picked a table within</div>
<div class="p1">
view of the door. Sean didn't like to sit where he could not watch for trouble and</div>
<div class="p1">
especially where he would have to sit with his back to a crowd.</div>
<div class="p1">
"May I help you Sahib?"</div>
<div class="p1">
He thought for just a second and decided on something different "Tea, black. And what</div>
<div class="p1">
would you suggest to eat?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ah Sahib, we have a chef from Tibet. I would suggest the thukpa. It is a soup with</div>
<div class="p1">
noodles, vegetables and goat. Very good. I think Sahib would like it."</div>
<div class="p1">
"I believe I will try that."</div>
<div class="p1">
The server hurried off while Sean went through some of the papers he had been given.</div>
<div class="p1">
The letter of introduction was in a small sealed envelope. He put that in the inside</div>
<div class="p1">
pocket of his coat. The other papers he stowed back in his courier's pouch. The inside</div>
<div class="p1">
of the inn was bright with paintings of elephants, jungle scenes, and market scenes</div>
<div class="p1">
gracing the walls and Hindu statuary placed throughout the establishment. Although</div>
<div class="p1">
some smoked in the main room, the air remained relatively clear as the ceiling fans</div>
<div class="p1">
moved the air about.</div>
<div class="p1">
It did not take long for the server to bring his food. The soup was very good, the goat</div>
<div class="p1">
tender, not tough and strong tasting, having been marinated in aromatic spices. The</div>
<div class="p1">
noodles were thick and filling while the vegetables were still crisp, not mushy like was</div>
<div class="p1">
often the case in England.</div>
<div class="p1">
Looking about, Sean noticed that the clientele were mostly well dressed. This must be a</div>
<div class="p1">
local spot to eat for the government officials, or perhaps local businessmen he thought.</div>
<div class="p1">
Absent were the working class in their grime covered work clothes. There were very few</div>
<div class="p1">
"Gore" or whites as the Indians called the English. As a Gora, Sean knew that he would</div>
<div class="p1">
be easy to spot and follow here.</div>
<div class="p1">
He took his time finishing his meal and then sat for a bit drinking his tea. After paying his</div>
<div class="p1">
bill he went back to the offices to look for his contact. This was all new to him. Typically</div>
<div class="p1">
he was making delivery of goods and the buyer would contact him. After more than an</div>
<div class="p1">
hour of searching he finally found the office. As luck would have it, the man was out so</div>
<div class="p1">
he made an appointment for 10:00 the next morning.</div>
<div class="p1">
Catching a carriage back to the aerodrome, he wondered if Andrew had been able to</div>
<div class="p1">
make any progress with sales. He didn't like the thought of losing money on the cargo</div>
<div class="p1">
but that was always a concern when trying to make inroads in a new area.</div>
<div class="p1">
The return trip was uneventful and as he walked up to the Skylark he noticed Andrew</div>
<div class="p1">
talking to a man on deck. Hopefully a client. As he came onboard Andrew noticed him,</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ah here is the Captain now."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean extended his hand to the man and as they shook the man said, "A pleasure Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Sir, this is Mr. McCulley, a business owner here in Katmandu." added Andrew.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Pleased to meet you."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Mr. McCulley is interested in some of our porcelain ware."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Ah, very good. I will leave the two of you to your business."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean nodded to the man as he and Andrew went back to talking, before going down to</div>
<div class="p1">
his cabin. Planning for the next day, he remembered that he would not only need to</div>
<div class="p1">
arrange for delivery or pick up of the goods but he would need to talk to him about the</div>
<div class="p1">
arms that they were carrying. Perhaps the man had contacts who would like to</div>
<div class="p1">
purchase the whole lot.</div>
<div class="p1">
Rising early, he had a quick breakfast and then caught a carriage back down to the</div>
<div class="p1">
government sector. Sean preferred punctuality and had decided that being early would</div>
<div class="p1">
be prudent. He was shown into the office right at the strike of 10:00. A well dressed man</div>
<div class="p1">
rose from his desk and extended his hand.</div>
<div class="p1">
"A pleasure Captain Armstrong, we have been waiting for your arrival. Please have a</div>
<div class="p1">
seat."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean sat in the chair that he indicated and made himself comfortable.</div>
<div class="p1">
"I assume you have the shipment for us?" Added the man.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Yes. And some other items that you may be interested in."</div>
<div class="p1">
An eyebrow rose as he asked, "Other items?"</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean smiled, "I have in our hold, a number of Martini-Henri rifles, cartridge, powder, and</div>
<div class="p1">
a new Maxim machine gun with a full crate of ammunition."</div>
<div class="p1">
The man's eyes lit up, "Ah, I see. We have a need for items such as that."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean and Mr. Malakar worked out the details of the transfer of the goods. He was</div>
<div class="p1">
looking at a respectable profit for the arms. Andrew arranged for the sale of the goods</div>
<div class="p1">
he had brought and turned part of the income around, purchasing spices and teas. They</div>
<div class="p1">
would be travelling back with a full hold.</div>
<div class="p1">
The day before their scheduled departure a courier arrived at the ship and was taken to</div>
<div class="p1">
the Captain.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Sahib, I have a message for you from a benefactor."</div>
<div class="p1">
The courier handed an envelope to Sean.</div>
<div class="p1">
The note was brief; Before your departure please return to my office. I have a message</div>
<div class="p1">
to be delivered in London and wish to send a courier's pouch back with you.</div>
<div class="p1">
The next few days were a hubbub of activity for the crew and for Sean. He picked up</div>
<div class="p1">
the delivery from Mr Malakar, Andrew arranged for the teas and spices, Jock effected a</div>
<div class="p1">
few light repairs and the crew even had one night of down time. Things were amazingly</div>
<div class="p1">
quiet considering the troubles in London.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean and Stella poured over the maps. Sean had one extra delivery for Malakar, a crate</div>
<div class="p1">
of rifles with ammunition and two chests to be picked up at the aerodrome at Calcutta.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean had been told that the Bengal province had been taken over by the Crown from</div>
<div class="p1">
the East India Company in 1857 after the Indian Mutiny. Sean surmised that the Nepali</div>
<div class="p1">
contingent were looking for support from potential allies in other parts of India.</div>
<div class="p1">
Their immediate plans included the delivery in Calcutta followed by a trip to Ceylon.</div>
<div class="p1">
Andrew had arranged a contact there for the famous Ceylon white tea. Stella argued</div>
<div class="p1">
with the Captain over the route they should take.</div>
<div class="p1">
"But Sir, we have been warned about pirates in that area. We shouldn't follow the east</div>
<div class="p1">
coast. The Bengali Pirates ply not only the seas but the air."</div>
<div class="p1">
"We'll travel under cover of night. It will be fine."</div>
<div class="p1">
Stella shook her head as she finalised the route. She had a bad foreboding about the</div>
<div class="p1">
next leg of the trip but once the Captain's mind was made up there was no changing it.</div>
<div class="p1">
Pirates had been prevalent in the Bay of Bengal since the "pirate dressed up as a</div>
<div class="p1">
priest" Francis Xavier had arrived from Portugal in 1542. The two to three days of flight</div>
<div class="p1">
would give ample time for them to be spotted and pursued.</div>
<div class="p1">
The flight to Calcutta went off without a hitch. Fair winds made for a quick trip and again</div>
<div class="p1">
all went well with the delivery. Sean hoped that their luck would hold out as they began</div>
<div class="p1">
the next leg of their journey. He ordered maximum speed, intending on shaving as much</div>
<div class="p1">
as a day off their trip if the winds cooperated.</div>
<div class="p1">
A red dawn concerned the crew. Sean scowled and looked at the black clouds on the</div>
<div class="p1">
horizon. They would be hitting inclement weather before Ceylon. As the day progressed</div>
<div class="p1">
the clouds built up as the wind began to buffet the ship.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean decided to get a little bit of fresh air and all of a sudden the rail, no more than a</div>
<div class="p1">
meter away from him, exploded into shards. The man in the crow's nest began yelling</div>
<div class="p1">
"Pirates! Pirates coming in from the west!"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Damn." Thought Sean. The pirates had come out of nowhere and now they had to run.</div>
<div class="p1">
He quickly made for the bridge. The pilot had already begun to take evasive</div>
<div class="p1">
manoeuvres as the ship reached maximum speed. They could hear the report of</div>
<div class="p1">
cannon fire as the marines set up their new cannon. Sean stood on deck and used his</div>
<div class="p1">
spyglass to try and determine who exactly was in pursuit. The lead craft was sleek.</div>
<div class="p1">
There were no markings but then he caught a glimpse of someone on the bridge; they</div>
<div class="p1">
were wearing what appeared to be a British uniform. He quickly rushed to the cannon</div>
<div class="p1">
emplacement and ordered the marines to fire on the lead ship. Puffs of smoke could be</div>
<div class="p1">
seen from the half dozen ships that were moving to cut them off. The ship shuddered</div>
<div class="p1">
twice as she was hit. Returning fire, the marines finally scored a direct hit on the bridge</div>
<div class="p1">
of the lead airship.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean smiled as the shell exploded on their bridge. The new equipment might turn the</div>
<div class="p1">
tide. But they were still drastically outgunned. Running to his own bridge, he was</div>
<div class="p1">
knocked from his feet as a cannon ball impacted the ship, sending shards of wood</div>
<div class="p1">
flying. Picking himself up, he could taste blood in his mouth as he ran the rest of the</div>
<div class="p1">
way to the bridge. Only Stella, the pilot, and Bobbie were on the bridge, Bobbie acting</div>
<div class="p1">
as lookout and helping to spot ships.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Set course directly into the cloud banks." Called out Sean.</div>
<div class="p1">
"But Sir!" Yelled Stella, however she was cut off before she could say anything more.</div>
<div class="p1">
"It's our best chance. We can't stand up to their numbers."</div>
<div class="p1">
The pilot turned the ship to the east but as they were turning the ship lurched. Sean</div>
<div class="p1">
helped the pilot fight to maintain control of the ship and then the unthinkable happened,</div>
<div class="p1">
a projectile pierced the back wall of the bridge and the pilot went down.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Bobbie! Go get someone to take him below decks!"</div>
<div class="p1">
Bobbie ran off and soon returned with help. The two carried the pilot off as Sean</div>
<div class="p1">
continued to fight for control of the ship. It was hard to believe that the weather could</div>
<div class="p1">
worsen but it did. The ship was hit three or four more times before the pursuers broke</div>
<div class="p1">
off as the Skylark was engulfed by the clouds.</div>
<div class="p1">
Keeping an eye on the altimeter, Sean noticed that they were slowly losing altitude. He</div>
<div class="p1">
blew into the communication tube and heard "Aye." From the other end.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Jock, we're losing altitude."</div>
<div class="p1">
"The forward balloon was hit Keptin."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Can it be repaired?"</div>
<div class="p1">
"Dinna ken. Ah hav' a man on it."</div>
<div class="p1">
"Stel! Give me a heading!" he called out over the roar of the storm. Despite the windows</div>
<div class="p1">
being intact, it was hard to hear over the cacophony on the bridge.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Make south-southwest Sir!" was all he could make out as another thunderclap rocked</div>
<div class="p1">
the ship.</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean looked back to the Navigator as she pored over the map, trying to determine a</div>
<div class="p1">
course to set. She looked up - fear etched into her features - before turning back to the</div>
<div class="p1">
map. He shook his head. This was by far the worst storm he had ever been in. He</div>
<div class="p1">
flinched automatically as yet another brilliant flash lit up the dark roiling clouds and</div>
<div class="p1">
wondered if they would survive the night.</div>
<div class="p1">
A cacophonous roar deafened Sean as the thunderclap rocked the ship. Lightning lit up</div>
<div class="p1">
the clouds as the bolts arced across the sky. Sean shook his head as he thought back</div>
<div class="p1">
on what brought him to this state. He was brought out of his thoughts as the ship was</div>
<div class="p1">
tossed about again. He turned his head momentarily when he heard the door to the</div>
<div class="p1">
bridge slam. It was George.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Report."</div>
<div class="p1">
"We've lost three marines Sir. And one elevatorman is missing. Others are wounded</div>
<div class="p1">
Sir."</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean turned again and nodded to George, noticing he was bloodied as well. Things</div>
<div class="p1">
were not good.</div>
<div class="p1">
The ship shuddered again and began to descend even quicker. They were a scant 100</div>
<div class="p1">
meters above the waves. The engines whined and then coughed and the ship dropped</div>
<div class="p1">
quickly.</div>
<div class="p1">
"Bobbie, run to Jock and tell him to get those engines working again!"</div>
<div class="p1">
Sean looked out the windows and could see the waves inching closer and closer to the</div>
<div class="p1">
ship. "This will not be good." Thought Sean to himself. He stole a quick look back at</div>
<div class="p1">
Stella who was staring straight ahead, a look of astonishment on her face.</div>
<div class="p1">
As Bobbie tried to make it back to the bridge, a huge gust of wind knocked him from his</div>
<div class="p1">
feet. His screams for help were smothered by the wind as he rolled towards a hole in</div>
<div class="p1">
the rail.</div>
<div class="p1">
Bobbie's plight unknown, Sean fought to lift the ship and avoid the waves. All to no avail.</div>
<div class="p1">
The keel of the ship creased one tall wave and then he saw something that chilled his</div>
<div class="p1">
soul. A monster wave was careening towards the Skylark. He had to look up to see the</div>
<div class="p1">
top. As the bow of the ship impacted the wave Sean thought . . .</div>
Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-52078371243668219352012-12-03T09:51:00.002-08:002012-12-03T09:51:31.445-08:00Cycles of time<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Cycles of time</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Progressions of seasons</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Mysteries of life</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Thoughts</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Contemplating</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">What does it mean?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">What is the spiritual?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Is it life?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">A bond with others</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">And the earth?</span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">
Commune with nature<br />Love of another<br />Have we lost the spirit?<br />Nature destroyed<br />Rape of land and others<br />Consumerism<br />Fighting over what?<br />A toy?<br />A phone?<br />What next?<br />Kneeling by a homeless<br />Dressing with shoes<br />Protecting a child<br />Helping the environment<br />Life is the mystery<br />Season after season<br />Time moving on.</div>
Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-63473903698971518652012-09-17T00:03:00.002-07:002012-09-17T00:03:33.338-07:00Sometimes<br />
Sometimes you meet someone who makes you smile.<br />
Sometimes you meet someone who breaks your heart.<br />
Which will you be?<br />
Giving and making a person's life better?<br />
Taking and making a person's like hell?<br />
Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-21622625159826218862012-08-15T12:21:00.001-07:002012-08-15T12:21:17.183-07:00Calling you<br />
I was listening to the song Calling You by Blue October and thought of this. Parts in quotes are from the song.<br />
<br />
<br />
"I'm Calling You to See"<br />
<br />
I wait for your call. Phone beside me<br />
I close my eyes and hear your voice.<br />
I smile knowing we'll talk soon.<br />
<br />
"If you're sleepin are you dreamin, and if you're dreamin are you dreamin of me?"<br />
<br />
As I drift off, your face is the last thing I see.<br />
A smile, dark hair swirling around that face<br />
beckoning for a kiss.<br />
<br />
"I Can't believe you actually picked me."<br />
<br />
Sitting wondering should I stay or go<br />
And then a touch on my should and an invite to dance<br />
So happy that I took that hand.<br />
Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-73815290703382552862012-08-11T08:51:00.001-07:002012-08-11T08:51:13.691-07:00New SparkLiving day-to-day, the hurt always ragged on the edge of memory<br />
Meeting someone, a kindred soul moving through life the same<br />
A dance, laughter as the night falls away ever so quickly<br />
A chance, can the heart be opened just a bit for a new friend<br />
Soft blowing, tickles an ear and then a smile that melts the wall a bit<br />
Looking forward, not back to the pains that will ever remain<br />
<br />
<br />Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-27710450595729453852012-08-08T21:22:00.002-07:002012-08-08T21:24:49.571-07:00Past the Colorado<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Past
the Colorado</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">The
Early Adventures of Olivia Crawford</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">By
William E Wilson</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: always;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Past
the Colorado: The Early Adventures of Olivia Crawford</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Copyright
2012 by William E Wilson</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Except
as permitted under the Copyright Act of 1976, this book may not be
reproduced in whole or in part in any manner.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">This
short story is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are
either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Version
1.0, August 2012</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Visit
William Wilson's web page at </span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="http://gwylym.blogspot.com/"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://gwylym.blogspot.com</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Published
by </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">C.R.
designs</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">PO
Box 1215</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Flagstaff,
AZ 86002</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Author's
Note -</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">This
short story is a quick prequel to my story After the Collapse. I
wrote this while waiting on edits for the main book and to help set
the stage and introduce people to Livie, the main character of the
new upcoming series. The series is set in a post apocalyptic world
that has technology pushed back to the Victorian age. I am calling
this Neo-Steampunk as Steampunk elements are included. Please enjoy
this short story and hopefully it will lead you to some of my other
upcoming books.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Peering through the
binoculars, the woman wondered if the bridge would be clear. Years
ago during the collapse, the Hoover Dam had been destroyed which left
only the bridge to cross the Colorado River for hundreds of miles.
She swept her gaze over the landscape, looking for any telltale signs
of marauders awaiting prey. </span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Suddenly a movement caught
her eye and she zoomed in, adjusting the binoculars for the best
focus. A smile crossed her face - a bighorn sheep. If a sheep was at
ease perhaps there was no one else in the area, she thought.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Easing herself back off
the rock she had been poised on over the bridge, she scrambled down
to her horse.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Ok Lee, let's go
boy."</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Her horse tossed his head
as she mounted and they turned to head down to the road and the
object of her attention, the bridge.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie was a bit skittish
here. She had heard that marauders travelled the roadway in the area,
preying upon lone travellers. So far she had avoided such encounters,
travelling mostly off the roads. It had been a long trip with many
stops from northern California. She regretted having to leave her
sister at the ranch, but she felt the pull strongly to find her
brother. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The sky was almost devoid
of clouds, the day bright and warm. A sound of rocks shifting
interrupted her thoughts and her head shipped around as she
instinctively reached for her vest pocket where she carried her
derringer. On closer look there was nothing there. Lee was even
picking up on her unease and was a little skittish himself, as he
danced along the trail.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">She finally breathed a
sigh of relief when she reached the other side and was able to leave
the road. Safety. She had to be vigilant. The terrain was rough here
and the going slow - Rock filled ravines, rolling hills, and cliffs
slowed her progress. And it was dry. Bone dry here. Water would be a
premium for a while but luckily her waterskins were nearly full. Her
destination was Kingman where she hoped to find some friends of her
father. He had talked about them over the years before his death.
Good people, always willing to help he said. She remembered meeting
them once on a trip to visit her grandparents in Flagstaff.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie turned her focus
back to travelling, checking her compass heading before stowing her
map. She would be lucky to make fifteen or twenty miles. And... She
couldn't afford to injure Lee.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Lee was a paint and was
devoted to Livie. She had raised him herself, even breaking him for
riding. She patted his neck as she reminisced. It had been a struggle
of wills. He darn near broke her, but she came out on top, and now
they were inseparable for the most part. Plodding on she steered Lee
to what she thought were safer areas that would still be protected
from the view of anyone on the road. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Coming up over a rise
Livie's head jerked up when she heard a yell. She scanned the area
quickly before looking off to her left and seeing the road.
Dismounting she pulled Lee down to his side, calming him with soft
words, "Shhhhh, there boy, it's ok." but he could feel the
tenseness in her. Who was it she thought as she broke out her
binoculars. It took her a few minutes to see what was happening and
it wasn't good. Then she heard the report of a gun. Marauders. She
could make them out clearly now. They were on horseback and had run
down someone and shot them. The person was crawling away from them
now. Then the second shot made her wince. The body lay there -
unmoving. One of them kicked it and she could hear the whoops and
laughter even at this distance. As the pool of blood spread she could
see them rifling through the person's goods and thought it good that
she had avoided the road. She held Lee down for at least fifteen
minutes after they left. It was very difficult to understand how
people could be like this. How they could show such disregard for
human life. She couldn't bring herself to call the marauders people.
They were animals, preying upon the weak and she would not forget
this. Mounting, she took off for the east and Kingman, hoping against
hope that she could avoid them. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The landscape was stark.
Off to the right, every now and then, she could see the Colorado
River. About Lee's feet were cactus, scrub, and creosote bush.
Passing one large rock, Livie saw a lizard sunning itself. Looking
up, she took off her hat and wiped her brow. Another few hours before
the temperature would start to drop as the sun went down. She shifted
in the saddle and pulled at her shirt which was clinging to her back.
Despite being spring it was terribly hot. Lee's coat was wet with
sweat. A good sign. Sweating meant he wasn't overheating. They walked
slow to keep the exertion down which would help. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie decided it was time
to stop. A watering would be good too so she poured some into her hat
and gave it to Lee before getting a drink for herself. She had the
feeling this part of the trip would be monotonous, especially once
she made it out onto the flats. She had heard that there was a
watering spot for travellers at a saloon called the Arizona Last
Stop. Past that was Dolan Springs and then Chloride. Each leg of the
journey would take a day, going from one watering hole to the next. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">As the sun was sinking
down over the western side of the Colorado, Livie could see the sky
taking on a rich red hue. Tomorrow would be another clear and hot
day. Water rationing would be the norm until she could make it to the
Verde River and the Mogollon rim.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Selecting a good place to
camp that was out of hearing range and sight of the road, the she
broke out some of her trail rations for dinner. Tonight would be poor
fare since it wasn't safe to even build even a cooking fire and so
ate a bit of dried meat, a few nuts, and some dried fruit. Livie gave
Lee a few oats and then let him graze a little while she watched.
After he was done, she gave him a good portion of water and then had
a scant cupful herself. Although she couldn't afford to become
dehydrated, having Lee become dehydrated would be a greater problem.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Dawn broke early as usual
and Livie stretched and rolled over. As she opened her eyes she
scrambled back off her bedroll and then chuckled. Waking up to a
lizard staring you in the face before it runs off is a bit of a
shock. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Lee was standing there
dutifully waiting. At least Livie thought that as she chuckled.
Looking out over the barren landscape she took in the juxtaposition
of the light grey and tan rocks with the reddish sands and the blue
sky. So beautiful and yet so inhospitable except to the creatures
that managed to live here. Breakfast was spartan for the two. A
little dried meat for Livie and some dried grasses for Lee. The oat
supply was getting low and she thought it best to save some for
later. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Gathering everything up,
the two started on their way again, Livie leading Lee for now. The
terrain was rough and she didn't want to chance injuring Lee or
herself. After about an hour of travel she finally mounted as things
smoothed out a bit. She still hoped to be able to make it to Dolan
Springs in a few days.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The two travelled
southeast towards their next destination, stopping every hour or so
to take a drink of their precious water. Coming over a small rise
Livie could see a road down below her. It cut across the trail which
was worrisome. Looking at her map she scratched her head and wondered
what it might be and finally decided that perhaps it was the road
down to Willow Beach. Checking the map, there was a marina at the end
of the road on the Colorado but it would be easy to avoid which would
be easy as she had no desire to go in that direction.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The landscape continued to
be a monotonous expanse of hills and ravines. She saw little wildlife
except the occasional lizard or bird. At nightfall she heard strange
noises off in the distance to the east. Almost a wailing noise. It
made her shiver and she moved a little further to the southwest just
to make sure she was a ways from the road. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The next day the landscape
finally evened out and she could see that they were going through
what looked to be a great, flat valley. To the east she could see
some low mountains and to the west the broken terrain bordering the
Colorado River. She looked at her map and thought she must be about
fifteen miles or so from Dolan Springs. Checking her water supply she
figured she could make it, but it would be tight. Now that she was
basically out in the open she angled towards where she thought the
road would be. Anyone traveling the road would be able to see her in
the distance anyways. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The heat of the day caught
up with Livie and she started to drift off as she was riding. Sweat
trickled down her neck and between her breasts. Her shirt stuck to
her back and she felt downright miserable and thirsty. She
contemplated taking a big drink but thought she had better conserve
it for her horse.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie caught herself as
she almost fell off Lee. Shaking her head she wondered where they
might be and taking stock of the situation she looked about. They
were about ten feet from the road. And near a route 93 sign which
meant she was at least going in the right direction. Taking out her
binoculars she surveyed the locale and noticed a building to the
southeast, just off the road with a large sign nearby. "Last
Stop"? Horses appeared to be tied up outside of the building
which looked like a saloon. There were other outbuildings and it
would be good to get more water. Deciding on giving it a shot, she
lightly kicked Lee into motion and traveled on to the building.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A trough with water sat
outside so she had Lee drink before tying him to the hitching post.
Taking her one saddlebag with her possessions in with her, she went
in the front door and after a quick look, up to the bar. There were a
few others in the room that took looks at her and then went back to
their conversations. The barkeep came over, setting a glass of water
down, "Water's free if you order something to eat or drink."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie thought for a moment
and then asked, "What are the food choices?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The lady slid a piece of
paper across the counter and Livie took a quick look. Corn chowder,
tortillas and meat, sopapillas and a few other things. Thinking that
the corn chowder would be the safest, she ordered that, "Corn
chowder with a couple of flour tortillas if you have them." </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"That will be two
bucks." replied the woman as she called the order in to the
kitchen.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Counting out the change
for the meal, she thought it was highway robbery but there was
nothing she could do. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Is there anywhere I
can fill my waterskins?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The barkeep nodded and
replied, "Yeah, over at the windmill."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Thanks."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Life had to be tough out
here. Well, maybe not? If enough travellers came through maybe a
person could eek out an existence. The interior of the bar was
interesting. There were murals on the walls, the largest taking up
pretty much one wall and showing a motorcycle rider in front of a
theatre. The marquee showed James Dean. Other paintings of bikers
adorned the other walls. The tables were old. Maybe from the classic
route 66 days as were the chairs. It really did harken back to before
the collapse. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The barkeep brought the
chowder and tortillas out and Livie dived in. It was thick and hot
and despite the heat of the day she literally gobbled it down. She
used the last bit of tortilla to clean the bowl.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Not eat in a while?"
asked the barkeep.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Just trail food. The
chowder was really tasty."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The woman nodded and said,
"Here sweetie, have a touch more." and took her bowl.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Some people since the
collapse showed compassion for others. The barkeep had seen her fill
of people down on their luck. Setting the bowl down on the counter
she asked, "Where ya headed to?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Kingman for now."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The woman nodded and
continued, "Family or just passin thru?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Family friends. Hope
to be able to find them."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Good luck dear."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Thanks. Can I ask a
question?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Sure. What's on your
mind?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Any place around
here I could find a bed?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The woman nodded and said
"I think we could muster up one for you."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie thought for a moment
and asked "Do you do work in trade?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The barkeep smiled and
answered "I'm sure we could dear. How're you at washing dishes
and doing clean-up?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"I've done my share."
Livie replied with a smile.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">That evening Livie darn
near worked her hands to the bone. She wanted to make a good
impression on the woman and make sure she did her share. For it, she
had stabling for Lee, a bed for herself, and even breakfast in the
morning. What a change from the past months on the road. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The next day dawned early.
Stretching she got up slowly and gathered everything up before going
back to the bar. She had a hearty breakfast of eggs and tortillas
with salsa before helping out a little more with chores. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Thank you so much
for helping me."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The barkeep smiled "You're
welcome dear. You travel safe now."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie returned the smile
and went and retrieved Lee. He was well watered and ready for the
trip. She saddled him, doubled checked everything and then set out on
the road again. The barkeep had mentioned that she would start to see
more people on the road. Wagon trains went through the area, taking
people and goods from one place to another. They were expecting a
shipment in today in fact. She had asked about marauders and was told
that from here to Kingman things shouldn't be bad.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The way was easy going.
The area had more grasses than in the rugged country she had
travelled through earlier. Yet even with the increased rains over the
past few years it was still dry here. Lee was able to forage a few
times during the day and Livie didn't spare the water on him, knowing
that she would be able to refill at the end of the day. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Gone were the ups and
downs of the hills from before. They passed a number of other
travellers along the way and one wagon train that appeared to be
carrying goods. Each of the wagons had a driver and a guard carrying
some sort of rifle. Although conventional ammunition was rare and
mostly non-existent, the use of black powder firearms was on the
rise. Livie even carried a small .32 caliber single shot derringer.
She had never had to fire it. Some people even used makeshift
crossbows. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Many of the people she
passed waved or tipped their hats. She would always respond and give
a smile. Smiling often seemed to put people at ease which she
preferred over confrontation. She had experienced enough of that in
the past. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Shortly before sundown
Livie saw buildings ahead and figured she was coming in to Dolan
Springs. She continued riding past a number of ramshackle buildings
until she came to a restaurant of some sort. A few young men sat out
front and watched her as she tied up her horse. As she approached the
door, one looked at a friend and said, "I'd like me some of
that. Wonder if she is one of the new girls at the whore house?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie seethed inside as
she turned, took a deep breath and looking the boy in the eyes said
in her best teacher's voice, "I am a Lady. You will treat me
like a Lady. You will talk to me politely or I will wipe that smirk
permanently off your face."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The young man was
completely taken aback and his friends sat their speechless. Taking
off his hat and standing he replied, "Sorry ma'am."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie watched him wring
his hat for a moment before saying, "What would your momma say?
Would you say that in front of her?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"No ma'am." he
almost whispered before looking down.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">She turned back to the
door, watching for as long as possible. As she entered the
establishment he sat back down quietly next to his friends. One
started to speak and he said "Shup." before the door
closed. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The dining area was small.
In fact the whole building was on the small side. Livie ordered and
paid for something to eat that included some vegetables. She ate them
as often as she could. It didn't take long for her to finish and she
inquired about a place to find accommodations. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"There a boarding
house or hotel nearby?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"There's the Miner's
Rest down the street next to the Blue Monsoon."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Thanks." she
said before heading outside. The boys were still sitting there as she
went to her horse. She took one look at the one she had dressed down
and he looked down and scuffed a shoe against the ground. Good, she
thought. Kid needs to learn some manners. Women should never be
treated that way.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie quickly found the
boarding house and arranged a room for herself and stabling for Lee.
There was a covered porch that she could sit on for a while that
evening, looking out over the landscape. Although there really wasn't
much to look at. Another night with a bed was a treat, bur it still
took her a while to fall asleep despite the door being locked from
the inside. Towns could still be dangerous. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">No breakfast came with the
room, and she decided on just some trail food later. She was able to
refill her skins at the boarding house and Lee was well watered
before her trip to a place called Chloride. She could travel
leisurely again as it was only about fifteen miles. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Like the day before the
travel was easy and free from troubles. She skirted a set of hills on
the west to make it down to Chloride. She had heard that the town had
been established in the 1800's and was known for its silver mine. In
its heyday millions were made. She couldn't fathom that much money.
Especially these days. She had a number of ten and twenty dollar
pieces sewn and hidden in various spots in her kit and other
denominations of coin in a small purse that she carried. She carried
everything she owned. As she approached the town she could see the
mines which appeared to be active. Finding a place to get a meal she
listened in as best she could on conversations.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"They say they hit
another vein."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Silver?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Yep. Might pan out
with quite a bit."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Bobbie still
bringing lead out of his?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Yeah, by the bucket
load. He's been selling it to some guy named Mick in Kingman. I hear
he smelts it and makes bar to sell off to those travelling through."
</span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The name Mick rang a bell.
She was looking for a Jules and Mick Hardy. Her dad used to talk
about them. Jules was an artist with a passel of kids. Mick was a
tinkerer and had worked at the dam. She thought she should take the
chance and ask about him.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Excuse me, you know
this Mick."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"I've met him."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"His last name
Hardy?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The man scratched his chin
and said "I believe it may be."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Know where I can
find him?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"He has a shop front
next door to the Brunswick Hotel. Can't miss it. Big sword hanging
above the door."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie thanked the man and
went to find accommodations. One more day and she should be in
Kingman, and with luck, find someone who had known her dad.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The next day she was able
to hook up with a wagon train taking minerals and lead to Kingman.
That should assure a safe trip. As they travelled during the morning
Livie could see clouds building up.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Looks like a storm
brewing." said one of the drivers to his guard.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Yeah, we best stop
and get out the oilskins."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">At that, the driver
stopped his wagon and broke out rain gear. They checked the wagon to
make sure it was well covered and then started on again. The other
wagons had done the same. Livie's raincoat was just behind her saddle
so she decided to wait as long as possible to put it on. The further
they rode the darker it became - The clouds boiling up and looking
like giant dark grey puffs of fluff. A change in the breeze brought a
smell of moisture to Livie and she wondered how hard the rain would
be and for how long. A few minutes later she noticed what looked like
a dark diaphanous sheet extending down from the clouds to the ground.
And then a thunderclap nearly stopped her heart as the lightning
arced from clouds to earth. It wouldn't be long before the deluge
passed over them.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">As the first sprinkles
began to fall Livie put on her coat and pulled her hat down tight.
She also cinched up the tie so if the wind picked up bad she wouldn't
lose her hat. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The raindrops almost hurt
as they pummelled her. She followed close behind the wagon, not being
able to see more than about ten or fifteen feet. She had been in
storms but this was a dilly. She thought it lasted at least a half
hour with the rain coming and going for the rest of the trip into
Kingman. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Finding the Brunswick was
easy. It was right on the main street. Luck would have it the shop
next door was still open. Livie walked in and took a slow look
around. The store was full of artwork but there was also what looked
like an assayers desk in the back. One individual sat on the edge of
the desk, leaning on a sword that was point down on the floor. He had
longish hair with flecks of grey. A well trimmed beard graced his
face which had a wry smile. He was talking to two others about a new
batch of swords that were being heat treated.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">She worked her way back
slowly, looking at everything till she was close to the three. The
man leaning on the sword finally said, "Can I help you with
anything?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"You Mick Hardy?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Who's asking?"
replied Mick as he put his sword across his knees.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"The daughter of
Richard Crawford."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mick looked at Livie and
his smile broadened. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Come a little
closer." he said, waving her over.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie complied, standing
right next to him. He stood up and she was surprised that she was
easily six inches taller than he was. He looked up into her eyes and
exclaimed, "I'll be. Same eyes."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie had her father's and
her grandfather's eyes. Bright blue with a hazel ring around the
pupil. The two caught up quickly then Mick said, "Shop's closed
boys. Party tonight at my place."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mick showed Livie back to
his home which wasn't to far away. His wife Jules was pleasantly
surprised by their visitor. It had been many years since they had
seen the Crawfords. Livie had just been a toddler at the time with
the families staying in touch over the Internet until it had gone
down before the collapse. Like many people, they lost all contact at
that point.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">When Mick introduced her
to Jules, she got one of the hugs of her life. She caught up quick
with Jules too, telling her of the fate of her father who had died in
the conflict. Mick's wife popped off to make dinner as he and Livie
continued to talk. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Mead?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Pardon?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Would you care for
some mead?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"You mean, made with
honey, mead?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mick nodded his head and
smiled, "Yeah, I brew it."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie looked excited as
she said, "Where on earth do you get your honey?"</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"I have my own hives
and also bring in some honey from Flagstaff. They still have hives up
there too. Your dad used to like my mead."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The mead was wonderful. It
had a floral smell to it that Livie couldn't place. It tasted like
honey too. She had tried other meads in the past that tasted more
like rocket fuel than anything else. This though, was exquisite. A
they sipped the drink her eyes wandered over the sitting room. The
walls were covered with art. Quite a few photographs could be seen of
people. Many of children. Photography was impossible now with lack of
power. Digital photography that is. She had seen some old style film
cameras but those were rare as well.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">When dinner was served
Livie was quite surprised by the repast. Jules had cooked a suckling
pig. She had to have butchered it before dinner. She also served a
spring mix salad and pickled vegetables. The vegetables were quite
spicy and went well with the roast pig. Just before dinner was
served, Jules called outside and a passle of kids came running in.
The dinner table was huge and the children scrambled for seats.
Dinner was served and the kids dug in as the adults took their
time.They sat and joked and talked while they ate, the adults talking
about life and the kids talking about the next fort to make, or what
to play when dinner was done. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"These all your
children?" Livie asked Jules.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"No, they are orphans
that we took in. Kids need a good home and I like a big family. Mine
are all grown but some we haven't seen in years."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Jules took on a far away
look as Mick rubbed her back. The three adults were quiet for a
minute before striking up conversation again. When they had finished
eating Mick called out to the kids, "After dinner chores, then
out of the house with you."</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The kids all got to work,
some went to the outdoor kitchen and began to clean up, some cleared
the table, and the rest went off to take care of other chores. This
freed up the adults to move to the sitting room to talk.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Later that night people
started to arrive at the house. Couples, individuals, some with
children. The children went off to play with the others as the adults
started to mingle. When the sun had fully set, Mick was assisted by
some other men as he built up a bonfire. Despite the warmth of the
day, when the sun set the night air took on a chill. The bonfire
blazed and threw off a cheerie light and warmth. Some of the
revellers brought out instruments - a bouzouki, tambourines, and
dumbeks. The players struck up a cord and an eastern melody filled
the air. As they played, some of the women, including Jules, began to
dance. Livie was entranced by the entertainment. She had listened to
music since the collapse but it was mostly American folk music. This
had an ethereal quality to it. Almost fey. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">One of the women picked up
a sword. Was it a sabre? She balanced it on her head and continued to
dance - hips undulating, hands moving slowly in patterns, stomach
flexing and relaxing, head and neck ever straight as the rest moved
elegantly. Some men even joined in the dance and moved in their own
ways. Although smooth, their movements were more masculine. Not
touched with softness. Not feminine. Livie was intrigued and then
startled as Jules took her hand and pulled gently, beckoning her to
join. Livie shook her head but Jules would have none of that. She
guided her to the circle of dancers and helped her move with the
rhythm of the music. She had never done anything like this before.
She felt a flush. Embarrassed as she thought the movements were
so...so sensual? </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Livie had always been a
bit of a tomboy and was strong willed which put many men off. She had
boyfriends over the years but something always happened. They moved,
she moved, they weren't quite right for her and vice versa. And then
since the collapse she didn't have time for an involvement. She liked
the thought of settling down with someone. Mick and Jules seemed so
happy despite what had transpired. She had met people living in
despair and also people living happy. What was the difference? Most
had gone through the same things. The thoughts faded quickly as she
came back to the present. She moved with the music, hands, body,
mind. She thought the word fey again. This was fey, otherworldly. A
safe haven for a short time. Something to be savoured and remembered.
</span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The night wound down and
everyone began to disperse. A smile graced Livie's face as she said
goodbye to the many revellers. That night as she lay in bed she had
some hope for the future. Hope of finding her brother after looking
for her grandparents. The next leg of her journey would be difficult.
The Hardy's had mentioned they needed to travel to Seligman to make
deliveries of various items and to pick things up as well. They would
travel in their Vardo, a type of gypsy wagon, and she was invited to
travel with them. That was most welcome as Livie didn't have the
opportunity often to travel in a group. Yes, the future had much in
store. </span>
</div>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-90453173080452933702012-07-10T10:38:00.002-07:002012-07-10T10:38:55.522-07:00Tired Eyes<br />
I looked over at you and you attempted a smile<br />
Eyes so tired and shoulders hunched<br />
Exhaustion showing from every mile<br />
So much to do, so many cares<br />
Showing what may come from a lifestyle<br />
or a psyche that wants to give and share<br />
Giving energy and yet erstwhile<br />
receiving little from those around<br />
In those eyes I see so much yet while<br />
doing so much no way to bring back the one I knew before.<br />Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-42195345112382396622012-05-24T10:58:00.002-07:002012-05-24T10:58:23.208-07:00All rights reserved...<br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4fbe762d0c09c5056166217" style="display: inline;">
Warning--any person and/or institution and/or Agent and/or Agency of any governmental structure including but not limited to the United States Federal Government also using or monitoring/using this website or any of its associated websites, you do NOT have my permission to utilize any of my profile information nor any of the content contained herein including, but not limited to my photographs, an<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">d/or the comments made about my photographs or any other "art" related posts on my profile. You are hereby notified that you are strictly prohibited from disclosing, copying, distributing, disseminating, or taking any other action against me with regard to this profile and the contents herein. The foregoing prohibitions also apply to your employee(s), agent(s), student(s) or any personnel under your direction or control. The contents of this profile are private and legally privileged and confidential information, and the violation of my personal privacy is punishable by law.<br /><br />UCC 1-103 1-308 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WITHOUT PREJUDICE<br /></span></div>
</span></h6>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-79305108111653332372012-04-08T12:49:00.002-07:002012-04-08T12:49:45.276-07:00Ostara<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">A poem for Ostara</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">Astarte</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">Asherah </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">Eastre</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">Hearth and home, field and glade<br />Seeing nature, How was it made?<br />Does it matter? Mountains raped<br />Taking whatever, no way to escape<br />bees dead, and at what cost?<br />what is it really that we have lost?<br />May we return to primal days?<br />Return to Her, to simpler ways?<br />On this Ostara as days grow long<br />Let's greet the sun with joyous song<br />Return to Her, care for the earth<br />Take care of Her who gave us birth<br />Living in harmony is the way<br />and listen to Her throughout each day</span>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4715842723848993621.post-64705208660764472782012-04-01T16:22:00.001-07:002012-04-01T16:22:55.830-07:00Billet-doux<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">And so I write this billet-doux</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">to boldly declare my love for you</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">to give to you a bit to read</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">to tell you that it's you I need</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">and your love I will always feed</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">with my devotion tried and true</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">living my whole life with you</span>Gwylymhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08309784895613205011noreply@blogger.com0