Time - MMC (July 11, 2016)

Four months, and thirteen days. There was a time when you thought there would never be a day that would go by when you wouldn't see each other, and now it's been over four months. A fire that spread in less than five minutes is to blame for this.

Thoughts of Ariel spin around in your mind as you pull your feet up onto the hard wooden chair where you are sitting and rest your head on your knees. The tears you didn't know you had inside you come rushing out, and you wrap your arms around the top of your knees, your left arm pressing into your forehead. Your fingers dig into your arms as you try to squeeze the pain out of your chest and pass it on to anywhere but there.

Minutes tick by. From just the sound of your wristwatch, you count the time that passes: seven minutes, fourteen seconds. Ariel used to think it was funny how you always knew exactly how much time was left until the bell would ring for the next class without even glancing at your watch... Your sobs start afresh from the remembrance, and you begin to rock back and forth, thinking maybe it will help you to regain your calm.

Your tears finally slow, and once you rub away the blur, you realize the thing you must do. Somehow, the thought of her watching from above as you play the music she taught you already calms you. Keeping in time, your fingers move across the burnt piano keys, growing less and less shaky with each note played. You feel the ache in your chest being released, and the thoughts of your friend slow in their spinning. Time ticks by, and you realize that there are two things the fire wasn't able to take from you: time, and her piano.

Hey, everyone! I haven't done a Monday's Minutes Challenge in forever, and it feels so good to write one again! I used the picture prompt this week and my story is 310 words. Thank you, Tessa, for hosting!

- Maddie

Memories - MMC (June 20, 2016)

"So, what's in it?" Alex dropped to his haunches and reached to lift the flap of the cardboard box. He pulled, then realized that it was still taped shut.

"I don't know." Avery raised his shoulders in a shrug. His arms hung still, almost as if in fear, at his side.

"You don't know? Why'd you bring me over here, then? What if it's something stupid, like old crafts gone badly from someone's kindergarten days, or something?" His cousin didn't look impressed.

Avery's gaze shifted to the box again and he drew a breath. "It's not. There have been some... other things I've found up here in the attic, and... this is something serious."

Alex looked at him with a skeptical glaze in his eyes, but Avery didn't look up as he got to his knees and slit the tape. Both were still a minute, wishing the other would be the one to move first and open it. Finally, Alex sighed and mumbled something to the extent of, "How bad can it be?" He flung open the flaps and the boys stared down at the contents.

For a moment, nothing would have compelled them to touch anything inside. But neither were they ready to turn away. 

"It's..." Alex began to state the obvious, but decided to ask something more important. "But why?" He lifted his gaze from the box for the first time since it had been opened and stared at the boy that had brought him up there.

Avery remained silent for a few moments more, gathering the right words to sum up the picture. When he spoke, he whispered. "Because someone didn't want Margaret's family to remember her. But they didn't want to remember the times she wasn't theirs, either. And most important, they didn't want her to remember."

Hey, guys! I used the picture prompt, and it's 301 words. I won 2nd place last week! I know this is a little vague, so sorry. It's a continuation of the stories about Margaret Johnson I wrote: this one, and Forgetting. Hope you all have a lovely week! And if you want to join the Monday's Minutes Challenge, go here!

- Maddie

Pity - MMC (June 6, 2016)

The rope. How could it have slipped? It wasn't as if she’d meant it to. And that was the pity.

She'd been tempted to pass him by when she had seen him hanging there. And why not? They weren't friends. In fact, they'd never spoken a civil word, either one to the other, in life. She could have walked right by, let him die. Not been accused of anything. That was the pity.

Instead, she'd tried to help. Put aside petty prejudice that had lasted a lifetime, and tried to help the man. Tried to save his life. And she was accused of murder. No one would believe her if she tried to deny it. And she could not blame them. How many times had she sworn she'd take out Jeremy Kindle, her opponent, even killing him if need be. How many times had he sworn the same of her. Their malice was not a private matter. And that was the pity.

Their oaths had been fulfilled without either party wanting them to be.

The mallet came down to smack the wood of the desk, sentencing her for the next 30 years.

The rope had snapped, dooming him to give up the rest of his life forever.

If words could be taken back, what each wouldn't give to do just that. Bucket load by bucket load.

It was a pity to learn the truth which the old grade school rhyme tried to hide.

Words do hurt.

Surprise! You guys still get a MMC story this week. 

I used the items prompt (rope, bucket, wood), and the story is 247 words. This was a really fun one! (Yeah, I know, I say that every time). Also, I won second place last time :D Thanks, Tessa, for hosting!

- Maddie

Burnt - MMC (May, 16, 2016)

(Ignore the fact that he's covering her eyes)

"Yes. Yes, I know." He looked down at the little girl whose head did not even reach his middle.

She had one hand wrapped in his, and had one finger from the other pointed rigidly at the sight in front of them. Slowly, she tilted her head back and stared up at him. Her deep blue eyes did not hold tears, as he had expected. Instead, there was hurt contained in them. A bruised look, as if he had delivered her a blow after telling her that he had a present to give her. Which is almost what had happened. But he hadn't meant it.

"I- I'm sorry. I thought...." A heavy breath escaped his nostrils. He took his gaze off of the little girl and swept it across the piles of bricks and glass that lay in the charred grass at the bottom of the hill. Crouching so as to fully look her in the eye, he said, "I didn't know. The rumors were true." When he inhaled sharply, the ashes that mixed and carried on the air almost choked him. He moved his hand over his mouth and felt the bristly stubble on his chin; a reminder that life had not been normal for over a week since he'd met Angelica.

The little girl reached for that hand, and pulled it away from his face, still keeping her grip tight on his other hand. Placing first the right, then the left around her shoulders, she stepped in closer and put her own around his waist.

James returned the hug when he realized what she wanted. She was the first to pull away, and he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"You'll have to stay with me, now. All right? Come, Angelica. We'd better start on the way back home."

She raised her arms and he understood the cue. Scooping her up, he placed her on his aching shoulders and turned the both of them away from the burnt ruins of the city.

Guys, I'm back! (I think). Oh, and look: I posted on Tuesday this time. :D I have posts planned for next week and maybe the week after, so you'll hear from me at least until then. Things are a little crazy because of moving and finding a new job, and stuff (more on that later), so I am not making any promises, but I do really hope to be back on my normal posting schedule very soon. Anyway, this entry is 334 words, and I used the sentence and items prompts. Hope you enjoyed. :)

- Maddie

Guilty - MMC (May 2, 2016)

Once upon a time, I was free.

I didn't have dread and doom and misery hanging over my head at every waking second.

I had worries, but what were they compared to this?

If you've hurt a person in speech or attitude and felt remorse, go out and take it to the tenth degree, and then come back and tell me how you feel.

No, stop. Don't. That wasn't meant to be taken literally. I'm trying to save you from what I'm feeling. Trying to tell you not to make the same mistake I have.

It's nights like this that I can hardly breathe, the guilt weighs so much.

How can I still be sucking in air when Aaron's death was my fault?

I should turn myself in. Tell them what I know.

But the animal part of me continues to prevail. My instincts say stay hidden. Move away from blame.

The sad part is, I would be happier if I handed myself over, or if I was found.

But I know I don't deserve that.

Someone, anyone, come find me.

I may not be able to do it on my own, but I need someone to come and do for me what I did not do for Aaron:

I need you to save my life.


*tries to pretend she hasn't been away for forever* Heh-hey everybody! How's it going? You like how I'm posting on schedule and everything, right?

Who am I kidding? Will you please raise your hands if this is working?

*cricket*

So, I'm very sorry, guys, for being away for so long! Work has taken a tremendous amount of time and energy out of me, and I have not had time for much besides working, eating, and sleeping. Seriously, I'm not kidding. But since I have three days off in a row this week, I decided to post something, even though it's not Tuesday, which I hope is okay with you. ;) I'm very glad to be back, lovelies, and I am going to try really hard to have a post on Tuesday for you!

This story is 216 words, and I used the sentence prompt. I hope it's not too late, but if it is, I understand!

- Maddie

Dreams - MMC (March 7, 2016)

i had it again -
that inspiration, that conviction,
that motivation,
that feeling.

i had the dream again.

where it went i don't know.
i only know that it was here and now
i can't find it though i want it more than before.

why does fear come crawling and steal your resolve
just when you thought to use it?
life isn't fair -
so say others.
but i can't help but wonder if
we can work around it.

can you do what you would when you had the courage
even if you don't now have it?
i believe that when you feel the least compelled to do something
knowing it is right
that is when you should the most.

deciding something is not really doing it.
when is someone more fulfilled:
when thinking
on something or
on carrying through
with it?

do the poets conjure
or the inventors dream?
does the actor simply feel
or the pastor only contemplate?

i won't have the dream.
no.
not any longer.
instead of closing my eyes in my room and seeing it happen
i'll keep my eyes open and walk through the door
and go see the change i've been hoping will come.

because by God's grace, i'll do it.


I used the sentence prompt. And guys, seriously, Monday's Minutes Challenges are really fun! You should join! 

Hope you guys are having a great week! Anything new happening?

Tricked - MMC (February 22, 2016)

"You seem tense this evenin', sir. Beg your pardon for sayin' so." Abigail curtsied, and was careful not to let her tray overturn.

"Oh, I don't mind. I know it rather well myself." The old man sighed, rubbing his neck. He took the wine that she offered. “I’ve not seen you before.”

"My name's Abigail Brightly, sir. New around here."

The gentleman set his empty glass back on her tray, looking thoughtful. "I... have a niece named Abigail Brenton. Strange, isn't it? You've the same initials. Though... who can say how long since I’ve seen her? She asked to come a few months back, so as to attend the party this evening. But I...." His brow furrowed. Giving a nervous chuckle, he shook his head. "Go along, now, and attend to the guests."

She had not been elsewhere very long before a cry went up and a crowd began to gather. "Lord Brenton is ill!"

A panic went up in the girl's heart. "How is he? What is wrong?" Her servant's speech was gone.

"Poison," a man told her, his face red with shock and anger. His eyes shifted to the tray of empty wine glasses in the servant's hands. In the next instant, he pulled her to the dying patient.

Though his vision was darkening, Lord Brenton testified at once on seeing the servant girl's face, "Yes. She… my... wine..."

Abigail's eyes grew large as she cried, "Uncle! I’m Abigail, your niece, Abigail. I just wanted to see you! I'm so sorry, I don't know how..."

Her tray was wrenched away to be examined. Traces of arsenic were found in the lord's cup.

Though she tried to explain, no one would listen. Whoever poisoned him had just gotten rid of two nobles in the family.

Wow, that took forever to cut down! It's 296 words, and I used the picture prompt. I realize now that a better title would have been "Framed," but I already made the picture, so... yeah. "Tricked" it will stay.

Also, I won 2nd place last week! :D

Head over to Christ Is Write to join in the fun!






Oh, yeah. Also, guys, I'm going to be posting every Tuesday now. Ideally, it will be a Monday's Minute entry one week, and then a post that I'll... make up? the next week. Sound good? Okay, great. Have a great week, everyone!


auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie

Jump - MMC (February 8, 2016)

              

             

walk.

walk.

keep your head down.
don't draw attention.
we can't afford to be found.
not here.
not yet.
we'll be out of here.
and then we'll be off.
as fast as we can.

we're out.
the coast is clear.
no, let's keep a normal pace.
no one will notice.
our coats are black.
we'll blend in.

whistle.
whistle.
no sudden moves.
maybe they'll pass us by.
they have no way to prove
that we're behind this.
they can't.
not possible.
we're two friends.
wearing coats.
the night is cold.

they're gone.
went right past.
yes, maybe we should
get off the road...
oh. they're back.
only turned around.

run.

run.

don't get caught.

not now.

most definitely not.

not after all we've been through.

cross to the side.

cross to the left.
it's our only chance.
the river.

look here.
we can jump.
won't be so swift
as the other side.
have you got the note?
then 1-2-3.

we're off.


This was not the best, but it's what I managed for this week. It's 162 words, and I used the picture prompt. 

auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie

Convictions - MMC (January 25, 2016)

via Pinterest

What is the point of my thoughts 

if they stay

inside my head?

What good is my writing

when there is no one 

to read it? 

What sense is there in thinking

or dreaming?

It is all a waste, anyway.

Because me, I don't matter.

who would want to know 

my feelings or ideas?

I'm just a little nobody,

Living on this earth and questioning

why.

And then I see it.

I look up to the 

                                                                gray skies that

                                                                 surround me,

                                                                 feel the breath

                                                                  which rolls off the sea,

                                                               hear the waters

                                                                 crawl desperately to the

                                                                  shore and collapse, 

                                                                 taking their rest.

                                                                 I see how 

                                                               You see it.

                                                              And I know

                                                            that

                                                            I am made

                                                           to share

                                                           my thoughts and feelings,

                                                          my dreams and writings,

                                                         and my little opinions

                                                          about the big wide world.

                                                         Because 

                                                         if I've been touched by someone

                                                     then maybe someone is

                                                     waiting to be touched by

                                                        me. 

I used the picture prompt, and it is 151 words. Click here to find out more about Monday's Minute Challenge.

auf wiedersehen, darling

-Maddie

Only She - MMC (January 11, 2016)

via Pinterest

She buries her head in her arms and her screams won't stop.

If she screams any louder her voice might break.

She can think of only one thing: "No, no, no! This can't be happening. Not to me. Why to me?"

She still hasn't accepted this.

First it was her bedroom mirror.

Then it was the kitchen window.

Now it's the t.v. in her living room.

It's understandable that a hand banging on all of the glass surfaces it can find in her house would be nerve wracking.

But she's only curious as to why it's happening to her and not why it's happening at all?

It's tempting to give up and find another old friend to try to communicate with.

But it's she who has to know.

She's the one who has to know.

She's the only one who can set me free.

I don't let the poor girl alone.

Instead, I lift my hand and tap on the glass one more time.


It's good to do a MMC again:) I used the picture prompt, and it's 165 words. Thanks, Tessa, for hosting!

auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie

Six Word Story Contest

I found this contest at Elly's blog, and am excited to do another six word story:)

So, here goes.

She was ready for the world.

Also, I created a Bloglovin' account, so be sure to follow me on there! Follow my blog with Bloglovin


auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie

Decisions - MMC (October 26, 2015)

"Coward." The accusation rang off the walls and echoed down the length of the tunnel. 

She looked at him in disgust before turning her back on him and continuing her march down the passageway. 

Lenny was motionless, his speech, too, frozen in his throat. She didn't really mean that. She couldn't have meant it. But the tears stung in his eyes, all the same. "You can't, Lana," he called through his tears. "You don't know what's out there. We might never see Mom and Dad again. If we stay, we'll have a better chance of figuring something out."

"This is our best chance, Lenny," she replied, turning back toward him, "of another life to live. We won't ever have Mom and Dad again. I'm sorry, but it's true. I'm trying to give you the best alternative there is. If we stay in the city, we'll rot with everyone else. Don't you want to come and make life as least painful as it has to be?" She held out her arm to him, wanting him to say yes.

But he didn't. "No," he said, wiping his face dry. "You've given up on Mom and Dad, but I won't." He turned and ran the way they had come. 

His sister stood and watched him, wondering which of them was more of a weakling than the other.

It's 224 words, and I used the picture prompt. It is a piece of the story I have been writing for the past MMCs. Thanks, Tessa, for hosting these! 

Oh, and last time I won 2nd place:D

auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie 

Orders - MMC (October 12, 2015)

Here's another Monday's Minute Challenge (a contest hosted by Tessa Emily Hall) entry. It's 299 words, and I used the items prompt (arrow, leaf, wolf). As promised, it's part of the story I've been writing pieces of (this part comes after the part entitled Prisoners). Hope you like it:)


I kicked leaves off the ground and grumbled as I made my way deeper into the woods. "Only a few days adjusting to the great outdoors, and this is what she shoves on me. I've never even caught a fish in my life...and she expects me to bring back a deer!" I snatched a floating leaf, and began twirling it in my fingers as I walked. "What's going through her head, anyway? 'Janice's daddy was a stuck up, rich governor, and always sheltered his daughter from any kind of work. If I send her out, the deer will probably catch her'? Well, Lana's got another thing coming if she thinks I'm going to blindly follow her every order. I have half a mind to catch a wolf, just to show her-"

"Blathering gets you nowhere, I'm sure you realize."

My words stuck in my throat. I scanned the area, but saw no one. I grappled with the bow strapped to my back, and fumbled for an arrow. Clumsily, I aimed at the bushes in front of me. "Who-who's out there? I'm armed!"

"Only the wolf you wanted to bring along with you," said a voice that pretended to be friendly. 

Something cut through the air and landed at my back. I whirled around. Standing there was someone I'd never thought of when I'd heard his voice. "You." I felt relieved. "How-"

"Just get me to the camp, and I promise I'll make everything a lot more miserable for Lana and the others."

I knew I could trust him with that. The question "What are they to him?" did reach my mind, but I brushed it aside. I led him to the camp, where he fulfilled his promise.

But he never said things wouldn't be miserable for me, too.


auf wiedersehen, darling

-Maddie

Messages - MMC (September 28, 2015)

We should talk.

There. There it was. The message she'd waited so long to hear. Except he didn't speak it. He'd written it. Somewhere she'd be sure to see. We should talk. It was there on her windshield, drawn in the snow that had settled lightly across her truck.

We should talk.

I know.

Don't you want to?

Well, I do, but...

But you're afraid it might cause suspicion. 

Yes. I'm sorry, I can't help it. Wouldn't you feel the same?

I do.

Then why...

Missing you is worse.

She picked up the phone and called. The conversation she'd imagined had convinced her. If he was afraid, then they'd both be afraid together.

But there was no one there to answer. She tried three times, and then set down the receiver, devastated. He had to have left that message. Or was it someone else? Putting on her coat, she flew down the apartment steps to see.

It had to be him. She couldn't imagine anyone else coming so early to write that particular sentence. But she glanced something on the snow dusted windshield that she couldn't see from the apartment window. She scooped it up, and ignored the icy feeling it gave her fingers. It was a newspaper clipping. His picture was there; and so were some words she didn't want to see.

Greg Larson. 38 years old. Suspected of obtaining private government information. If seen, please contact...

She slumped against the truck, and covered her face with her hands. It had happened again. And they hadn't even had the chance to first say hello.

I used the picture prompt, and it's 264 words. It's also sort of the prologue to the story I've been continuing for two weeks. You can find out about Monday's Minute Challenge here. 

Also, I won first place last week! :D

auf wiedersehen, darling

-Maddie

Prisoners - MMC (September 14, 2015)

Here's another Monday's Minute Challenge story. You can find out more about the challenge at Christ Is Write. 

I tied for third place last week, and won third place the week before that:)

I used the picture prompt this week, and it's a continuation of the week before last's story. It's 300 words.

Greg dug his palms into his eyes, and muttered to himself. Things like, "I should have known this was going to happen," and, "I can't believe what we just did." Completely useless things. Things that didn't make up for what he'd done.

It was bad enough that they had already been gone months without their daughter knowing where they were. But now.... Now they would never get back. She would never know that they really were still alive, and.... That thought brought another to mind. They would never know if she was still alive. 

"Greg. Greg," Dina begged. "For the love of my own sanity, please, just stop. You can't make this any better. You're only making it worse." She heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Dina. Oh, I'm sorry. I can't do anything right, I can't-"

"Shh."

"Dina, please understand that I tried to do what I thought was best-"

"Shhhh."

There was a certain tone in her voice that made him realize something else was going on. He lifted his hands from his eyes and moved to the bars, straining to see around the corner to her cell. Suddenly, her hand appeared, reaching through her bars, something in her grasp. She held it out to him as best she could.

"Greg," she said, as if to get his attention.

But as she said it, he took the crumpled paper that she had been holding.

"Don't open it," she said, and her warning came in time. "Just look."

It was a dollar bill. A very badly folded dollar bill. He could not see its relevance at first. Then he saw the message contained there.

The kids are alright.

"Where-"

"I found it- in my pocket. Remember the guard who brought us down here? I think she slipped it inside."


auf wiedersehen, darling

-Maddie

Six Word Story Contest

Don't forget who you really are.

It just couldn't end like this.

Was she doing it right? Hopefully.

This is a really cool contest from a blogger I follow, called the Six Word Story Contest. You can get more information here. I actually started following Joy because she would post Six Word Stories, and I thought that it was a really cool idea. I've wanted to try my hand at it, but I felt like that would be stealing her idea. Now she's holding a contest for it, though, so I'm excited! Anyway, here is my entry.

Tell me what you think!

                                                        Are you going to participate?

                                                     


auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie

War - MMC (August 31, 2015)

Here's my Monday's Minutes entry for this week. I used the items prompt (Lily, sword, key), and based it off of the sentence prompt ("The fog lifted for a moment, just long enough to see"). It's 160 words long short:) In every way, this is very different from what I usually write. 

The Lily, the Lily 

On his silver chest

Bled with strength unwanted.

Beautiful, beautiful was the color,

But a life it stunted:

His own.

The sword, the sword,

In his limp grasp

Glistened with the same hue;

He had, he had slain many

Others, and had

Stained them likewise, too,

During war.

And the key, the key

Around his neck

Consoled its flower friend.

Hush, hush, it said,

He has kept his promise to her

Until the very end.

Be glad.

And the fog, the fog,

It lifted, 

Just long enough

To see, to see how 

These young lives had

Met an end so rough:

By men.

Her heart, her heart

Would break for those

Who shared in his same fate.

And she, she would praise

Those fallen who 

Would not live to a longer date:

Their sacrifice.

They lay, they lay

There: Lily,

Key, and steel,

And aided, aided the 

Fallen to obtain

A life more real

Than this.

auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie

Listening - MMC (August 17, 2015)

My badge from last week's challenge.

Here's another Monday's Minute entry for the challenge on Tessa Hall's blog, Christ Is Write. I used the picture prompt, and it's 298 words.



"Keep your voice down." Lana turned with a disgusted air and began making her way across the crisp Autumn leaves, hardly making a sound. She was at home here under the shelter of the trees. She was the one who had a better chance of surviving out here than I did... I wouldn't have had a chance if she hadn't found me.

I was used to being the one who had it all- the right friends, the fashionable clothes, the highest grades. Why did I know absolutely nothing about what was most important about living? I resented her. And I could not allow her to have any more power over me. "What's that? Couldn't hear you." I fairly shouted. "Could you speak a little lou-" All at once, I was on my back, a pair of grey eyes looming above my own. I would have shut up regardless of the hand that was clamped over my mouth and chin- the shock of anyone tackling me would have been enough.

She only stared for a minute. Then the words came, quiet and hard. "You think you know it all, Janice. You think you're above rules and reason just because your daddy's face could be seen everywhere? But let me tell you that if you want to have any hope of surviving out here in the big bad forest, you're going to have to do as you're told. Doesn't matter who you think has the better background or the beautiful clothes. Out here, we look out for each other, whether we think the others deserve it or not. I'm bringing you back with me, after all."

She released her hold. But all the way to the camp, I made no other sound save the crunching of leaves under my feet.

auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie

Forgetting - MMC (August 3, 2015)

I won first place last week:) It's awesome and cool.

This week, I used the picture prompt and the items prompt. It is a continuation of last week's story. It's 299 words long.

She looked into the mirror and faked a smile; practice for her presentation. But through the false display of happiness on her lips, she could not conceal the tears that formed in her eyes. Her glance fell on her papers - the items that held the dreaded words she would have to propose - and she stuffed them back into the manila envelope where they belonged, resisting the desire to put them through the shredder. Just as she had begun to forget and move on, something had come up again. As though losing her own daughter was not enough, she now had to give a presentation about what could be done to help missing children, leaving her emotions out of the picture.

Her hand touched the cold knob of the dresser drawer. There was the usual option. Always, she hated doing it, but for the sake of her job and her husband, it seemed the best thing to do. She would only use the smallest amount, and the effects would wear off by the end of the day. She pulled out the little bottle, and studied the label on it, though she knew from past times that it read:

SPRAY TO 

FORGET 

SHAKE WELL

The woman followed the instructions, breathing deeply. A calm came over her, and when she glanced at the bottle in her hand, she couldn't remember why she had used it. Sighing, she put it away and took out a rose petal scented perfume, putting the finishing touches to her outfit. Not long after, she heard the apartment door burst open, and David was soon in the room. "Emily, they have a lead!" His eyes were wild with joy. "They think they've found Margaret."

The woman blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry..." she said. "Who is Margaret?"

auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie

MMC (July 20, 2015)

I'm back again with Monday's Minutes. I am using all three prompts this week. It's 298 words.

Avery gripped the ladder rung and spat out the sawdust that had settled on his tongue. Perhaps he had been too hasty in his climb to the attic. As a result of his impatience, he had lost his balance, which had in turn made the ladder tip back and caused it to send down a shower of dust when it had hit the ledge again. Now Avery turned around to get a better look and immediately wished he hadn't. He was up so high, and it was a rather rickety ladder... Eager to have it over with, he resumed his ascent, making a mental note to ask his uncle to build a set of stairs in the ladder's place.

The boy was always amazed that there seemed to be something new to take interest in every time he visited the room. This time, it was a worn-looking suitcase in the far corner; he could have sworn it had not been there two weeks ago. He fumbled with the clasps for a minute, as it was not easy to see in the dim light. He gasped when it fell open rather quickly and its contents scattered across the floor. Chiding himself for his clumsiness, he scooped up a few of the fallen photographs and crossed to the window in order to examine them better. He uttered a cry of surprise when he saw whom they featured. He did not remember his little cousin looking this old. Wanting to be sure she was whom he assumed, he turned one over and read the writing on the back:

'Margaret Johnson, 1964, four and a half years old'

"That's a mistake," he thought. Because the last time anyone had seen her, she was three years old. And she'd been missing for two years.



auf wiedersehen, darling

- Maddie