Posted in Outrageous Lies and Tales, Tending the Stones for the Lock

Tending the Stones for the Lock III


3rd part of the new weekly story.  (First Part)  The inspiration for this came from an off hand comment I made on Facebook, and since people seemed interested I decided to follow through.  Happy Reading.  

(1st Part) (2nd Part)  (3rd Part) (4th Part) (5th Part) (6th Part) (7th Part) (8th Part) (9th Part)(Part 10) (Part 11)(Part 12)(Part 13)(Part 14)(Part 15)(Part 16)(Part 17)(Part 18)

bowlingball

 

Emily took several deep breaths as she leaned on her cane.  She looked over her handiwork and was happy with it so far.  She squinted her eyes to see the aura surrounding and enveloping the field she was standing in.  The colors of the mystical glow surrounding the rocks she had aligned had changed from  the angry red to the more pleasing green and blue.  She smiled, it was all coming back to her now the feeling as she used to get when doing this.  This is what she was supposed to do, what she was born to do.

Brodie leaned against the side of the car as his employer tottered around the field.  She had strictly instructed him to stay where he was and not enter the grassy field.  He had watched her for the forty five minutes as she wondered around the flat expanse with her cane, occasionally stopping and hitting a boulder in the field with her cane.  She had even sat down and made small piles of rocks on top of rocks as she sat.  Brodie had stood next to the car for the first twenty minutes watching her but even he got bored and reached into the car and pulled out his library book, propped it up on the hood and checked her out after every paragraph.  He had just finished The Franklin’s Tale when he saw Mrs. Emily standing in the center of the field

Emily was doing the incarnation easily it was all coming back now, and she had not said the the words and made the motions in twenty years.  She had studied it last night just in case but it all came back just as it had when she was in the Yucatan.  Boy Clark had been mad when she disappeared for those twelve hours, well technically it had been fifteen hours but he had not discovered she was gone till after he woke up, and then looked for her.  She had returned to the hotel, muddy, with a burn on her leg from the motorbike exhaust Clark had not talked to her for a day but he still went into town and got her burn cream.  Emily waved her arms ten more times in the forward motion and then ten more times half way in a circle and then she was done.  She silted her eyes and examined the blue glimmering aura.

Brodie looked up and watched Mrs. Emily as she stood in the middle of the field waving her arms.  He worried for a second that she was having a stroke or a seizure, but then she changed the direction of her arms and then stopped.  Brodie marked his book and closed it as she started to walk towards the car.  “Can you start up the car and turn on the seat warmers.”   Brodie simply nodded and stored his book in the back seat of the car then he get into the car and started the car and threw the proper switches turning up the heat.  He got out of the car and walked over to the edge of the filed and looked down the short bank at Mrs. Emily.  She stopped and looked up at him then motioned up at him and then waved him down to help her up the short hill to the road.  They had just gotten to the road and were steps away from the car when they heard the car coming down the road.   Brodie saw the large truck approaching and he thought it was going to pass them by but then it started to slow down.   “Damn it has a raven on the hood.”  Brodie heard Mrs. Emily state flaty.

Brodie looked and saw that yes the pickup truck did have a raven hood ornament, the ornament was a black raven.  Mrs. Emily turned and looked at Brodie quizzically.  “You can see the raven?”

“Oh course it is a hood ornament although it is a little bigger than most.”  Brodie stated pointing at it.

Emily looked at him questioningly then shook her head.  The truck’s cab pulled up even with them and rolled slowly past, slow enough that Emily got a very good look at the passenger as he stared out the window at her.  As the middle aged man stared at her she saw his right hand, third finger had a ring on it, a ring she had seen a few times before, and every time she saw it something bad always followed.  When she saw the raven she was hoping it was just a pre cursor and omen of things following, but now she knew with absolute certainty that the enemy was aware she was moving again.

(Can someone e mail me and tell my why this post is so popular, via Facebook all of a sudden, will give you a reward if you do, aaforringer@gmail.com)

(1st Part) (2nd Part)  (3rd Part) (4th Part) (5th Part) (6th Part) (7th Part) (8th Part) (9th Part)(Part 10) (Part 11)(Part 12)(Part 13)(Part 14)(Part 15)(Part 16)(Part 17)(Part 18)

Not crazy about the title, any suggestions will be duly considered.

The problem I have discovered with this type of writing is if I commit to something in the story there is no taking it back I just have to go with is and write my way out of it.  

If you would like to read my last weekly story, A Disinclined Purveyor of Sequential Art her it is. (Written in 2013, the same year my wife left me, so I was a different person back then, and I hope I have learned a lot about writing since then.)

If you want to see one of  my complete books try Disconnect in the Outfitters Universe.  

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My Response:   The prophecy stated that in 60 years if the Stones were not properly aligned then the world would fall under the sway of the demon king for 1000 years. 1956 21 year old Emily the chosen one starts the quest. She arranges half the Stones around the planet, but then falls in love and life happens. Now it is 59 years later, Emily’s husband of 58 years passed away and one of the monks has found Emily and reminds her that she is the chosen one and needs to complete her task. Anyone interested?

 

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My writings about the world, sci-fi, fantasy, and outright lies.

Witty observation, disparaging remark, question for A.A., well this is your chance.

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