The whistle and whine of winter winds managed to finagle through thick stone walls of the old castle, causing candlelight to flicker upon the Count, seated in a blood red velvet chair before the massive fireplace. He had seen the crowd’s tumult earlier in the village below, and knew an uprising had begun. His careless and frequent excursions had instigated the confrontation now brewing. From the old distorting windows he saw torches snake their way up mountain path, and soon, soon there would be... a sudden crash and the oaken door yielded , bursting inward, revealing...
Sharecropper Jonas returning home from his dusty baking day in the tobacco fields. A tortuous summer with a dearth of rain on the Midwestern plains had all but parched the broad leaves. Without moisture, there would be no crop. Jonas’ wife May was engaged in best effort stretching a meager pot roast, adding potatoes and cabbage to appease the groaning stomachs of her family. Children Merle and Thaddeus sat at the old table balancing homework and play, with the boy writing on small chalkboard, or little Merle, dressing her clothespin doll family in worn bits of gingham and calico. Jonas heralded his basso greeting as his kids jumped to hug him, almost knocking him over. This was his life, and, as tough as it was, May and adoring children made his spotlight of happiness here in the Oklahoma dust bowl. He thought of his future course,...
If only they could repair the solar shields, his ship could slow to necessary velocity allowing slingshot around the sun heading to Jupiter’s outermost moon of Eros , their destination where mysterious signals were emanating from. But now, Captain Hartwell knew his first priority was to awaken several crew from hybersleep to help get the navigation computer back online, bringing back control necessary for them to complete their mission. He set the resuscitation module calibrations on their pods, and went to check on the organic crop bay to set a faster cycle to produce enough food for the now larger crew’s long journey ahead. Hartwell floated through several air locks to the bay and took a cursory look through its viewport into the agri-chamber . Amongst the lush foliage he was astonished to see...
A gilded coach pulled by four resplendent unicorns, attended to by 4 bewigged coachmen. “ I knew it,” Lord Timothy said, “I was sure my Princess would find me . My memory is returning from that fall from my steed Cairnwoven onto my head. It’s all coming back . She surely remembered my childhood home here in the woods and has come looking for me here. Oh, thanks be to woodland fairies for showing her the way back to my heart. I just still have a nagging , aching head and can’t remember when ..”
Blackness suddenly shrouded Timothy as light dwindled . He felt a a shake on his shoulders as his Princess tried rousing him. …
A circle of light shown upon him in the darkness as Agnes, the librarian was in front of him shining a flashlight,
“Timmy, you must have fallen asleep back here all alone between the stacks, and I didn’t see you until now, doing my final walk around. If you have decided which of these books piled in front of you you’d like to take home, I’ll still take time to check you out, but, otherwise, it’s time for you to be on your way home as the Library is closed now. I’m sure happy I did a thorough check or you would have been locked in here all night, I’m afraid. “
With that, a sheepish Tim loped out the library door into the night, still a bit forlorn he had collapsed right in front of his beloved Princess.
-Jerry Wendt 2018
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