Wednesday Briefs: Don't Look Back #3(1.3)

 Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Lee and Marshall's story continues, as Lee pulls off the belt and pulls out all the stops! Warning, this story is for mature audiences only, so be warned. Don't forget to see what the other Briefers have done. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

Don't Look Back #3 by Julie Lynn Hayes

“First off, you ran...”

Lee’s leather belt whickered crisply. Marshall felt a familiar tightening that began in his stomach and radiated outward before finding a home in his balls and leaking cock. He had a heightened sense of awareness of every move Lee made, despite not being able to see him. He tracked the arc of the belt by sound alone just before it made glorious contact with his bare flesh.

Whap!

Marshall never flinched. The first stroke was never the hardest or the best.

“Second off, you made me chase you...”

Second stroke. Harder this time. It caressed his other ass cheek like a lover’s kiss. A stern, demanding lover.

“Remember your third offense, boy?”

Marshall knew. Of course he did. But he maintained a stoic silence. Lee’s question was actually a ploy, meant to draw him out. See if he was paying attention. Marshall was not about to fall into that trap. If he was going to fall, he was going to do it eyes wide open, knowing the consequences.

Not like this. And not for something as stupid as speaking without permission.

“Good boy.” Lee’s voice a silken purr that sent sparks flying through Marshall’s nervous system, lighting a fire in his soul. One good deed deserved another. Lee was not afraid of giving rewards when they were merited.

Marshall felt Lee nudge his legs open just a little more, felt Lee’s cool breath whistle across his hole, followed by a long, languid swipe of his tongue. Jesus that was good. An involuntary groan lodged in Marshall’s throat. He clamped down on it, as well as the urge to come.

Too soon. Far too soon. More importantly, Lee hadn’t said he could.

Sometimes long afternoons were spent in their bedroom, with Lee tonguing Marshall’s ass, fucking him with it like a damned mini-cock. Lee could even hit his prostate with his tongue, and send Marshall spiraling into ecstasy.

Lee’s lips skimmed the curve of Marshall’s ass before he straightened once again.

“Tell me, boy. What was your third offense?”

Head down, his hair flowing over his face, Marshall dared to grin at the memory.

“I called you old man, Sir.”

“So you think I’m an old man, do you?”

“No, Sir. I don’t think that, Sir.”

The belt came down again, without warning.  Heat spread through Marshall’s ass. A delicious burn.  Damn, that hurt so good. And damned if he didn’t want more.

“Thank you, Sir,” Marshall fairly moaned. He dared to turn his head slightly to one side, blowing strands of red hair from his mouth.

“Just you remember that.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Thwack!

Marshall could just imagine how red his ass was now. He felt the sting of his hyper-sensitive flesh as Lee layered stroke upon stroke. Marshall knew this too would pass; the pain would dull as the nerve endings grew enured to the sensuous ache that suffused him, crowded out by other, more pleasurable sensations. The pain was only the beginning, the means to an end. But it wasn’t everything. And there were limits.

Marshall had his safeword. All he had to do was use it and the spanking would cease, right then and there. Or whatever it might be they were engaged in at the time. Whatever Marshall didn’t feel comfortable with.

He’d never had to use his word. Not even once.

Marshall felt Lee release the belt, dropping it onto the grass beside them with a gentle thud. Marshall knew what that meant and he tensed slightly in anticipation.

Lee referred to this part as “doing it manually’. His hand descended on Marshall’s ass with a sharp smack, a resurgence of delicious pain flowing through Marshall. He squirmed slightly in Lee’s lap, knowing his weeping cock was saturating Lee’s jeans with pre-come. He wished Lee would lose them. He wanted to feel Lee’s bare flesh, rub his cheek against Lee’s skin, inhale Lee’s musky, natural scent.

Lee reached beneath him and grasped Marshall’s aching cock. “Goddamn, you’re wet, boy. Don’t come yet. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir,” Marshall dutifully responded. Too bad he hadn’t thought to bring a cock ring. Or even a rope. Something to prevent illicit ejaculation.

Marshall felt Lee’s fingers caress his wetness, coating them with nature’s lube. He had to mask his impatience, or risk losing it all at Lee’s whim.

“One or two?”

“Two, please, Sir.” Marshall swallowed in glorious anticipation as Lee eased two fingers inside of him. Yesssssss....

Marshall felt the familiar burn as Lee’s fingers breached his tightness, pushing inside of him until they were completely encased. Those fingers felt like heaven, stretching Marshall’s channel, preparing it for bigger and better things. One step at a time. Anticipation was the best foreplay.

“Want more, boy?”

“Want you, Sir.” Marshall wriggled his ass, as if seeking to impale himself even more upon Lee’s fingers.

“How do you want me, boy?”

“Inside of me. Your cock. Fuck me hard. Please, Sir.”

Marshall held tight to his obedience. He needed this as much as Lee did, maybe even more. This was the essence of their relationship, the hallmark of their love. Had been for many years.

The fingers disappeared. Marshall tried not to moan his disappointment. The loss would be more than adequately replaced by something better. Patience.

“On your hands and knees,” Lee directed him and Marshall scrambled to obey, dropping onto the harsh grass of the field. He didn’t care if he scraped his palms or his knees. For what he was about to receive, he was truly grateful.

He dared a glance up at Lee. He was removing his jeans, a small tube in one hand. Marshall couldn’t help but admire the view as Lee’s thick cock appeared. Angry and swollen, it was a veritable god. One that Marshall loved to worship every chance he got.

Lee liberally slathered lube onto one palm, coating his cock, his gaze fixed upon Marshall.

“Ready for me, boy?”

“God, yes.” Marshall fairly moaned in anticipation.

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Cia Nordwell

J Ray Lamb

Wednesday Briefs: Don't Look Back #2 (1.1)

  Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Last week, I started a new story. It's about Marshall and Lee, who have an unusual relationship. I hope you're enjoying it. I plan to run it for a very long time. At the end of last week's chapter, Lee was just taking off his belt. Hmmm, wonder what's coming? Or should that be who?  lol  Don't forget to visit the other Briefers. Their links follow my tale!  Enjoy!

Don't Look Back #2 (1.1) by Julie Lynn Hayes

Discipline and the feel of a leather belt were bound up in some of Marshall’s earliest memories. His father hadn’t spared the use of the belt with his son, and Marshall could not argue there were times when he flat out deserved it. He was mouthy and bold, and often spoke first, without thinking through what the consequences of his words might be.

He quickly learned that wasn’t necessarily the way to go.

First his dad would warn. But only once. If Marshall didn’t heed that initial warning, he wouldn’t receive any other. The next response would be the summons. That could be verbal, as in his dad calling his name. Or a simple physical touch. Being picked up by the scruff of the neck and laid into position, his pants pulled down and justice meted out.

Sometimes it was the hand alone, stinging Marshall’s flesh, inducing a sweet, hot burn that seared inside and out. A flame he quickly learned to relish as proof of his father’s love. Other times it was his leather belt.  He’d never cried over his spankings, always took them like a man. And his father had treated him like a man. The lesson Marshall came away with was if he broke the rules, he paid the price, and he accepted it.

He always knew his father loved him, even after he spanked him. Afterward, as the flames licked through his flesh—whether administered by hand or by belt—his father would soothe the burning with sweet balm and sweeter words. He never doubted his dad loved him, and he certainly loved his dad. His dad was always there for him, something that couldn’t be said for Marshall’s mother.

Lee flexed his belt and snapped it taut, the sound ringing out as sharply as the crack of a whip. Marshall’s cock was weeping copious amounts of pre-come. He’d have to run a load of laundry before bed, no doubt about it. It was worth it.

“You will use that mouth, boy, never doubt that. You don’t doubt that, do you?”

“No, Sir. I don’t doubt that at all.” He was counting on it, actually. He loved the taste of Lee’s meaty cock, loved the texture of it. Lee seldom came in Marshall’s mouth, but on those rare occasions he did, Marshall was in heaven.

When he was little, his mother made a habit of running off and leaving Marshall and his father for extended periods of time. Even when she was there, she wasn’t there. Marshall didn’t miss her, didn’t need her. He had his father, and he was loved.  She was a virtual stranger on the periphery of his existence. He barely knew who she was—the concept of mother was an alien one to him. Father he understood very well.

His father quit his job and started his own business instead, out of his home, so he could be with Marshall. He took care of the house as well as his son, saw to his every need, cooked and cleaned and made sure he got to school on time. When Marshall didn’t thrive in the public school system, his father removed him and homeschooled him instead. And Marshall felt very loved.

Every night they had a ritual. After dinner, once the dishes were done and put away, and the kitchen was clean, they would read together. His dad had taught Marshall to read by the time he was three. He loved those times, sitting on his dad’s lap, either listening to his deep, rich voice read his favorite stories, or reading the words aloud to his father himself.

After the story, they took their shower together in his father’s own bathroom, dried off, and then they went to bed. But not before giving thanks for what they had. The blessings in their lives. Marshall always considered his biggest blessing to be his dad. And then they’d stretch out in his dad’s big bed, both of them warm and bare from the shower, and his dad would lie behind him and put his arm around him, holding him against him.

Marshall felt security, he felt love, and the strength of his father’s body so close to his was ingrained into his love for him. There would never be anyone like his father in Marshall’s life.

“I’ll show you how these knees can take it, boy,” Lee drawled, “and then you can just work the grass stains out of my pants. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir. Understood, Sir.” Wouldn’t be the first time. Or the last.

Marshall knew Lee had no trouble with kneeling on the rough ground. Lee was in prime condition, and there were times when he could put Marshall to shame. Marshall just liked giving him a hard time. Yeah, he was still that mouthy little kid at heart.

Grass stains were a small price to pay for what he was about to receive. Thank God for the wide open spaces of Texas, and their private playground, far away from their nearest neighbor.

Lee dropped to the ground, onto his knees, the belt gripped in one strong hand.  “Strip,” he commanded tersely. “All the way.”

Just what Marshall wanted to hear.  The spanking he was about to receive would definitely be followed by a fucking. Thank you God, yes, yes, yes...

He wasted no time in divesting himself of his boots, followed by his jeans. He wore nothing beneath. Going commando was his religion. It gave easier and quicker access for Lee, who did not like to be kept waiting. Neither did Marshall.

“Assume the position.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Marshall laid himself across Lee’s legs, the denim rough against his bare skin.  He turned his head to avoid getting another mouthful of flowers.

“Spread ‘em.”

Marshall obliged, widening the space between his legs, feeling the warm breeze caress his pucker. Lee’s hand stroked gently across one cheek, but Marshall knew better.

This was just the tip of the iceberg.

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Cia Nordwell

J Ray Lamb

Book Review: Assassination Classroom, Vol 21 by Yusei Matsui

 

Assassination Classroom, Vol 21        

Author: Yusei Matsui

Publisher: Viz Media

American release date: April 3, 2018

Format/Genre/Length: Paperback/Action Adventure Manga//216 pages

Overall Personal Rating: ★★★★★

 

Although he is gone, Koro Sensei’s legacy lives on in his students. He left each student a personalized book containing advice and tips for their future – a huge volume for each of them to peruse! But it’s all they have left of him now. Yanigisawa lived, surprisingly, but he is barely alive, a fitting ending to this horrible monster. The Class E building is torn down, no more students will ever be isolated and shunned there. As a direct result, Principal Asano is let go.

There isn’t a great deal to say about the final volume of Assassination Classroom. We find out what happens to everyone, especially Nagisa, who followed in Koro Sensei’s footsteps and became a teacher. His students have all gained a great deal from their late teacher, and it shows. I still tear up over the last two volumes.

There are also bonus stories that reveal even more of Koro Sensei, as we get our last glimpse of him. He even reveals the secret of his Mach 20! A fitting ending to a remarkable series. Although not what I was hoping for it was what had to be.

RIP, Koro Sensei.

Saturday is Horror Day #214 - The Creeping Flesh

 The Creeping Flesh

Emmanuel Hildern (Peter Cushing) returns from the jungles of New Guinea with a marvelous find in the form of a huge skeleton, one he believes will serve to bolster his theory that evil is a disease that can be cured. His daughter Penelope (Lorna Heilbron) is overjoyed at her father's return, and hopes to spend time with him, but he is quickly lost to his studies once more. On his arrival, he finds a letter from his brother James (Christopher Lee) who runs a mental asylum. James regrets to inform his brother that while he was gone, his wife passed away. And he has said nothing to Penelope, of course. The truth of the matter is that Penelope believes he mother died years ago and her father is not about to let her know the truth.

But he doesn't realize how obsessed with the idea of her mother Penelope is, especially because she has 

been forbidden from entering the locked room that was once her mother's. But where there is a will, there is a way, and Penelope gains entrance.







In the meantime, Emmanuel has made an accidental discovery that he cannot quite explain - if the skeleton becomes wet, flesh begins to grow on the bone! Interestingly, his brother James is involved in his own dark experiments. And the two experiments are about to overlap!

While this film has the look and feel of a Hammer film, including Hammer's two biggest stars - Cushing and Lee - it is not. There are also supporting actors Duncan Lamont, Michael Ripper, make-up artist Roy Ashton, and cinematographer turned director Freddie Francis.

Cushing plays the absentminded scientist well. He means well in protecting his daughter, but she finds out anyway, unprepared for the reality of her mother's mental instability. We see flashbacks of her descent into madness, and we are led to believe that this was inherited by her daughter. I think the daughter's own descent was a bit rapid, but considering the film is only an hour and a half long, understandable.

Sure, one has to suspend a certain amount of disbelief, such as water growing flesh on a skeleton, and the skeleton coming to "life" and wreaking havoc. But it's a fun watch with a twist ending I didn't see coming. If you are fans of Cushing and Lee, as I am, I recommend giving this a watch. I'll give this film 3.75 Stars.

Wednesday Briefs: Don't Look Back #1 (1.0)

 Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

I am going back to an older story and reposting that, so I can focus on Dracula more closely. It's time to revisit Marshall and Lee!  Enjoy!  Don't forget to visit the other Briefers! Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!

Don't Look Back #1(1.0)

“Stop running and face me, boy.”

The words sent chills skittering along Marshall’s spine. He was torn between the desire to obey and the need to provoke punishment. Giving in and turning was his first instinct, but the idea of being stretched out across the other man’s lap, his ass exposed, bared to receive those glorious swipes of his firm hand was too strong to ignore.

On the other hand, he sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy on him, either.

Marshall stood at the edge of the trees. Lee was maybe a hundred yards or so behind him. He knew without looking that Lee’s eyes held that intense look he got when he was on the hunt. The dark blue became almost purple. God, his eyes were sexy. Marshall’s own eyes were emerald green and slightly tilted, a genetic throwback to some long dead ancestor. As was his long lush auburn hair that fell straight down his back. He could have tied it so it wouldn’t fly into his face as he ran, but he liked the feel of it on his bare back.

Ahead of him lay an open field, and just across that lay more trees. The trick was to get across the empty space. With no cover, he’d be a sitting duck.

Then again, he intended to be caught, didn’t he? Wasn’t that the whole point of this chase? That and keeping fit.

There was no actual decision to be made. Marshall made no response to Lee’s demand. He grinned to himself, his heart beating faster, his blood pressure rising—that wasn’t the only thing rising. His cock was pressing against the material of his jeans. Oh shit, horniness was rearing its ugly head, demanding satisfaction.

Maybe this would be a short chase, after all. If Lee questioned why the surrender, Marshall would just tell him it was in deference to the twenty some odd years Lee had on him. Didn’t want to hurt the old-timer.

And wouldn’t that just provoke a delicious spanking? Not to mention the fucking that would follow.

Shit, his erection hurt now, just thinking about Lee’s big thick cock inside of him. Decision made.

He darted out from the cover of the trees. Summer was in full bloom, and wildflowers bobbed and weaved their yellow, white, and purple heads, dancing in the heated breeze that blew from the south. Marshall didn’t mind the heat. He welcomed it. It was the cold he wasn’t partial to, and why he felt the need to get the fuck out of Fargo.

Texas. Now there was warmth and sunshine to spare. And wide open spaces. Plenty of room for the two of them. And no one to tell them what they could or couldn’t do.

He could hear Lee’s approach, and he knew that was no accident. Had this been an actual hunt, he would never have heard him coming. Stealth was that man’s middle name. Fucking hot he was too. Marshall had never had another lover. Never wanted one. Lee was all he wanted and all he needed. When you had the best, why look for anything else?

Marshall slowed his own pace. He’d had a good run, but it was time to give in now. Pride only carried you so far, and right now it was losing to desire and need... both of which said fall the fuck down and get ready for punishment... and reward.

A strategically timed tuck and roll brought him to his knees. He automatically assumed the position. Head down, hands behind him, palms up, against the base of his spine, just in the hollow above his ass. He wasn’t even winded and he took pride in the fact. He was in great shape, and he knew Lee loved his body and the pleasure that it gave. At the age of twenty, Marshall wasn’t ripped, not by any means. But he was built, he was strong, without an ounce of fat on his lean frame. And he was limber as hell.

His entire body tingled in anticipation of Lee’s arrival.

“I should take you right here and now.” The familiar drawl came from behind him. He loved the way Lee could elongate any word, giving it a sensual twist that went straight to his cock.

“What’s the matter? Afraid of getting dirty?” He almost dared a glance, to see the reaction his words engendered, but thought better of it at the last minute.  “Can’t your knees take it, old man?”

That did it. He felt Lee’s boot against the small of his back, and then he was face down in the grass, getting an up close and personal taste of the wildflowers. He didn’t dare take the offending blossoms from his mouth, so he grinned and bore it. The serrated leaves bit into his cheek, drawing blood.

If Lee pressed hard enough, he could easily snap Marshall’s spine. But he wouldn’t. That wasn’t what this was about. Discipline, yes. Setting limits, yes. Killing... no.

“You have a mouth on you, boy.”

Marshall made no reply, due to the greenery in his mouth. And because he’d not received permission to do so.

“Roll over and look at me,” Lee directed. The pressure lessened and Marshall breathed more easily, then did as he was told, spitting out what was in his mouth. The bulge in his jeans was damn painful now, and more than obvious. He could see flames of desire burning in Lee’s eyes that raked him over from head to toe. “I said you have a mouth on you, boy. What do you say to that?”

“Yes, Sir, I do, Sir.”

“Might have to put that to good use.”

Marshall’s pulse quickened. He knew it wouldn’t be as easy as that. First the discipline, then the reward. He relished them both.

Lee unfastened the large silver buckle that gleamed on his leather belt. Marshall was more than passing familiar with the feel of it against his flesh.

to be continued

Now see what the other Briefers are up to!

Cia Nordwell

J Ray Lamb

Saturday is Horror Day #213 - The Haunting(1999)

 The Haunting(1999)

Eleanor, known as Nell (Lili Taylor) has not had it easy, taking care of her invalid mother for eleven torturous years, always at her beck and call and the incessant beating of her cane against the wall. Now that the old woman has passed, perhaps Lili can relax... except that her sister Jane (Virginia Madsen) and her husband Lou (Tom Irwin) have power of attorney and they have decided to sell the flat out from under Nell, leaving her homeless. Her sister says that Nell can come stay with them - if she wants to work for her living, including caring for their bratty child, Ritchie (Saul Priever). Just when all seems lost, Nell receives a phone call from a doctor telling her to look in the paper where she finds a study for insomnia that is paying participants $900 a week plus room and board. Nell leaps at the opportunity and is accepted for the study.

Dr. David Marrow (Liam Neeson) has placed an ad for an insomnia study. But what the participants don't know is that his actual purpose is to conduct a study on group fear. His assistant Mary (Alix Koromzay) objects that this isn't fair to the people involved, but the doctor insists he can't conduct the study any other way.

Nell follows the directions and finds herself at the gates of an enormous mansion where she meets the surly caretaker Mr. Dudley (Bruce Dern). He lets her in and tells her to ask for his wife (Marian Seldes). Next to arrive is Theo (Catherine Zeta-Jones) and then Luke (Owen Wilson), followed by Dr. Marrow and Mary. From the beginning, strange things seem to be happening, including an accident which sends Mary to the hospital, never to be seen again.

Nell claims that there is something about the house and about the man who built it - allegedly as a home for his future children - something evil. But the others insist she is having a breakdown. Is the house haunted, or is Nell behind the mysterious goings on?

The Haunting is a remake of the 1963 film starring Julie Harris, which is from an original story by Shirley Jackson. Despite the famous cast, the star of the show is the actual mansion, which gives off elegant/creepy vibes from the beginning with its over the top opulence and its disturbing statuary of children, as well as a rotating room with its own carousel, and a fireplace you would fit a football team in. Lili Taylor does a good job as the tortured Nell, who only wants a place to belong, and someone to belong to. Catherine Zeta-Jones is stunning, as usual, and Owen Wilson clueless, while Liam Neeson swings between villain and victim. It's not a perfect film, but it does have a certain ambience as the people who are locked inside until morning (shades of House on Haunted Hill!0 try to negotiate what appear to be evil spirits. I think the ending will haunt you for a while. I'll give this film 3.75 Stars.

Wednesday Briefs: Dracula #38(8.4)

 Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Avram and Dracula are left alone on Andrei's boat while he goes to join his family. When Avram suggests they go too, Nico reveals his snobbish side. See what's going on in this week's chapter of Dracula. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!

Dracula #38(8.4)

“Must you be so nasty?” Avram felt exasperation course through him unexpectedly. Perhaps the stress of their situation was getting to him. Or maybe Nico’s perpetual disdain of other people was too much.

For a split second, Avram thought he saw a wounded expression pass through the vampire’s eyes. But the next moment, he had returned to his usual inscrutable self.

“I am what I am,” he said simply.

“By the grace of God?” Avram easily finished the Biblical quotation.

“Hardly.” Nico sneered. “God’s so-called grace has no place in my life and you know it. If you persist in worshipping an invisible deity, that is your concern, not mine.”

Avram noticed that Dracula’s skin had taken on a faint tinge. Not a good sign, considering his poor circulation. He immediately regretted baiting him. He raised one hand in apology.

“I’m sorry, Nico. It’s a difficult time we are going through.”  He took a seat on the bench near the stern of the boat and patted the seat beside him.” Here, come sit down. Relax a little.” The vampire maintained a petulant attitude for all of ten seconds, then deigned to join Avram, as if doing so were his own idea.

They sat in mutual silence for a few minutes, as darkness fell around them. Dracula’s features were easily visible in the light of the nearly full moon, aided by the twinkling of myriad stars like jewels scattered across the dark cloak of night.

“You once belonged to the Church, did you not?” Avram broke the silence at length. He knew so little about Nico’s background, but he wanted to know more about the man who had raised him and kept him safe from harm all these years. Perhaps in part it was to make up for his own lack of family history, for he’d never been able to learn much about his parents and he barely remembered them.  He wasn’t even sure he’d receive an answer from the other man, but he felt the need to at least ask. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Another silence fell between them. Avram had decided he would receive no reply when Dracula spoke.

“At one time, yes. Church attendance was demanded of me. I had no choice.”

Avram decided to take a stab in the dark, as the old saying went. “Would that be in Gunther’s church?”

“Your priest friend? Yes, that church.”

Avram could read nothing decisive in Dracula’s tone of voice, but that would tend to explain why he had felt the need to desecrate that particular church in such a way. Especially if the memories it held were unpleasant ones, which he suspected they were.

Maybe he should change the subject. Something safer. Well, comparatively so.

“Nico,” he said softly, scooting closer to the vampire on the seat. “Tell me a story.”

The vampire snorted. “Aren’t you a little old for that now?” But his sarcasm was at least gentle, as if no malice lay behind it.

“Maybe.” Avram shrugged. “Or maybe not. Tell me about my parents. And about  how you found me.” Of course, he knew the story well. But he felt the need to hear it again, a reminder of what bound them and how their journey had begun.

 to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Cia Nordwell

J Ray Lamb