Apr 10 2013


sister did not die!”

            A sound
slap to the face knocked Joel to the ground. The angry man grabbed Joel’s arm
and yanked him upright. That grip could easily snap wrist bones.

did, Sir! I swear it. She fell from the Malcombe Bridge.
I tried to save her, but it was no avail. Please, I’m so sorry. Please do not make
me suffer her fate!”

            A loud
growl ripped through the man. He grabbed Joel around the neck and slammed him
against the wall. Blood trickled out.

know for a fact my sister is not dead,” his husky voice said in a whisper
so terrifying that Joel’s bladder lost control. “You will tell me the
truth of the matter. I will break each bone in your body one by one until you
have! Speak, servant, while your jaw is still in tact enough to do so.”

            The man was
known for being intransigent. Joel had hoped the news of where Rebekha died
would have given some pardon to the moment, for no one wished to see the bridge
destroyed more than this ruffian.

is gone, Sir! In my pocket, please look, please I beg you; her glove is in my
pocket. It is all that remains, Sir. Please believe me.”

brother tore the pocket of Joel’s coat as he retrieved the glove.

reasons which you will never comprehend, I know for a fact that this glove is
not that of a dead woman.” He slapped the glove across Joel’s battered
cheek. “I shall have the truth from you. It is all that keeps you alive.
If you can not provide me with the real answer,” the man paused. His eyes

with horror, Joel gasped. An impossible vision came into view. He was looking
up at the sky. The ground around him was cut open to the height of a man. Dirt
rained down. He was in a grave! This was his burial! Joel opened his mouth to
scream just as another heap of dirt came down. He choked. He could taste the
ground! He heard pebbles clink against his teeth. His nose was assaulted with a
smell loved only by roots. He reached out, clawing at the sides of the hole,
desperate to rise up, but it was too fragile to be of use. Dirt and tiny stones
lodged under his fingernails. He would meet his maker as a tattered mess! The
ground blotted out the light and buffered away the hum of the world.

            Then it was
gone. He was on his feet again, with Rebekha’s brother glaring at him. Joel
shook as he spoke. “Sir Anthony Fullere. She has run away with him. Mister
Davies is a deplorable man. She had to flee. There was no choice for her. The
truth of her husband would shame her. Not just her! His family. Your family.
Our entire town perhaps. She had no choice. Anthony will protect her.”

You let her go off with that narcissistic, greedy, spurious monster? How could
you be so easily doped? How could she?”


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    • Margo Kelly on April 11, 2013 at 3:12 AM

    I’m stopping in from the A to Z Challenge. Nice to meet you!


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    • Margo Kelly on April 11, 2013 at 3:19 AM

    I’m stopping in from the A to Z Challenge. Nice to meet you!


    And I’ve failed your CAPTCHA thing twice … sigh

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    • Heidi Mannan on April 11, 2013 at 5:24 AM

    Wonderful way to show the word in context. BTW, have you ever been on Authonomy? The reason I ask is because I see some of my friends from there in your follower list. 🙂

    • J Lenni Dorner on April 13, 2013 at 8:53 AM

    Thank you so much.

    No, I have not been on Authonomy. I have made friends with several indie writers who I have a great respect for though. Perhaps they have been there?
    • J Lenni Dorner on April 13, 2013 at 8:55 AM

    I have a petition to get my host to allow me to turn captcha off. Only one other person has signed it so far.

    • Patricia Lynne on April 14, 2013 at 7:41 PM

    Interesting story. Very brutal.

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    • J Lenni Dorner on April 15, 2013 at 2:49 AM

    Sometimes the world is like that.

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