She looked at him for a moment and then said, “Bobby, we don’t have souls. We are souls. We have bodies that are fragile and wear out after a time. We’ll be fine, we are going to be as one again. Come . . .” She drifted through the window and toward the tree in the yard.
‘She always did love that tree,’ Bob thought as he headed toward the door. He didn’t bother to put on shoes or a jacket, but just went out the door into the yard.
The stars were icy and bright in the sky but he didn’t feel the cold. He saw Nora heading to the stone beneath the tree and he followed her there.
“I’m going now and you will follow shortly. I love you Bobby!”
“Wait! Nora! Don’t leave me again!” He fell to the ground and lay prone with his arms wrapped around the stone. The inscription on it read: Nora Hopkins, Beloved Wife and Mother. The frost on the stone and the ground melted from the warmth of his body as his tears froze to the stone.
*
Deputy Ferguson could hardly believe what he saw at the Hopkins’s house that morning. Bob Hopkins froze to the ground hugging his wife’s tombstone. The door to the house was wide open and the TV was still playing.
There was no evidence of any foul play and no sign of drinking or drug abuse. He made his report to the sheriff and they sent out an ambulance to get the body. All his kids lived away. The last time they were all here was last year when Nora passed away. That was a year to the day. Strange how things happen sometimes.
*
E.B. Boggs currently resides in the mountains of south-western Virginia. He is the author of various short stories and one novel, The Chronicles of Vinland. You can find his Facebook page at the following link:
https://www.facebook.com/EBBoggs?ref=hl
*
Revelation of the Angel Queen
From the Calnis Chronicles
J R C Salter
Throughout C?ran’s life I had been there. From the moment he was born screaming into the world with his unusually deep voice, the Fates had marked this man for something, and it was my task to find out what, and to help him when I could.
I often disguised myself as a neighbour, or visitor; sometimes male, sometimes female, sometimes old, sometimes young. Occasionally I interacted with him; I passed him in the street and he asked directions, or he wanted some information about a new city he was visiting. He was a traveller, you see, which is a little odd considering who he ultimately became.
I watched him as he saw the world; Egypt, Babylon, Persia, even to the farthest reaches of the East, and he never knew I was there...
Until he settled down to lead the tribe that would become one of the greatest civilisations the world had ever known.
*
‘Go!’ C?ran shouted, his booming voice echoing through the ravine.
‘I’m staying,’ Damariya said.
‘Oh, just do as you’re told, woman. I need someone to look after the children. They can’t stay here. You can’t stay here.’
‘I’ve got a sword. I can fight.’
‘Exactly! Which is why you’re the best person to defend them. These things will destroy you all.’
Damariya stood there, looking at C?ran, defiant.
‘Cilnawn,’ C?ran said, ‘escort her back to the temple. Make sure she does her duty, and then get back here.’
Cilnawn saluted, his fist pressed to his chest, and grabbed Damariya’s arm. She protested and struggled to get free of his tight grip, but he was too strong for her.
C?ran shook his head, and looked to Atharron, ‘Got any sisters?’
‘No,’ Atharron said, ‘I guess my parents thought they couldn’t get better than me.’
C?ran laughed, ‘Lucky you. Lord, I wish she was someone else. She’s used to defying me, that’s what it is. She’s been hounding me for years to join the army, and when I give her that sword, she does nothing but disobey my orders. And because of her, I’m sure some of the men are questioning my authority. If any of them were like that, I’d discipline them for insubordination. But she’s my sister. I can’t clap her in irons. Instead of directing that rage at me for giving her an order, she ought to put it into protecting them damn kids,’ he sighed, ‘What do the scouts say?’
‘The army is half a mile west. They have twice our numbers, but no coordinated battle plan. We should be able to finish this one and be home before sunset.’
‘Lord, I hope that’s true. These attacks are getting more and more frequent. And none of the damn captives can tell us what they want. Their only motive seems to be just plain destruction. I hate it. An enemy with no desires makes negotiations impossible.’
The noise started off as a low murmur in the air, but over the next few moments, it grew to a loud cheering as of many men crying out for blood. C?ran held his sword in one hand, his shield in the other, and he turned to face the oncoming animals.
The ravine was narrow, defensible, but not without its flaws. The enemy didn’t seem to ever show intelligence, but he looked up to the hills on either side of him, and worried what would happen if the monsters took a moment to think. He would be surrounded and forced into a pit to be picked off one by one. Luckily for them, the things didn’t think; or couldn’t do much besides charge.
He saw them in the distance, a rabble of assorted vermin; vaguely human shaped, but with odd features, horns or tails or sharp fangs, that made them more animal than anything he could call a man. They ran with a selfish desire to rip flesh and stamp it to the ground. They didn’t even eat the dead. C?ran wasn’t even sure what they did eat.
Any second they would be upon him, and he would protect the small community. With his life if need be.
Just a few yards away, now. He saw the chipped teeth of the snarling beasts, the red veins pumping through their eyes, the mud beneath their claws. And he swung with his sword, drawing first blood.
*