"Ah...."Celandine observed the man curiously who just came out from the chamber, going downstairs. She noticed the small hand batch on his black robe, wondering what that might be meaning.  Suddenly everything around her changed. They traveled dawn to dusk, past woods and orchards and neatly tended fields, through small villages, crowded market towns, and stout holdfasts. Come dark, they would make camp and eat by the light of the moon and the lamps. The men took turns standing watch. Celandine would glimpse firelight flickeringthrough the trees from the camps of other travelers. There seemed to be more camps every night, and more traffic on the kingsroad by day.She somehow knew it was a dream.Morning, noon, and night they came, old folks and little children, big men and small ones, barefoot girls and women with babes at their breasts. Some drove farm wagons or bumped along in the back of ox carts. More rode: dra

San Francisco, USA September, 2016    Mahone tightens the knot of his black tie around his neck, then fixes the collar of his coat. Actually, suit-coat always makes him feeling uneasy, but since it's a mourning day, he can't go there with his usual outfits.    It has been three days since Garrett Greenham died. His daughter Samlin is sick, haven't waken up from coma yet in hospital, it was obvious that she would have a nervous breakdown again. Her mother was devastated after seeing them, she still is. The Greenham family has already declared the news of his death in the mass media, said the cause was an unknown assailant's gunshot. The police and detectives are investigating the case, but it's useless. Lynn and Mahone clearly saw who did that and the cops won't do anything about that, because The Conditorem always controls them. Since this two brothers brought his dead body, police questioned and suspected them, too, but

Sam takes a seat on sofa, then heaves a sigh.    It looks like it's her first time in their house, he thinks. Truly, in his whole nineteen-years-old life, he never felt this kind of awkwardness in front of a girl before. Girls were easy and eager for him, eager to get in touch with him, because he had his charming looks and behavior to impress them. But this girl sitting front of him, somewhat makes him__ he can't detect it, an unknown feeling."Mahone, can you wake your brother up?" she looks up after a while. "It's important, I need to talk with him.""Um, okay. He's just taking a nap," he nods slightly, thinking of saying something else to her, but changes his mind."I'm already up," Lynn says from the staircases, coming down. His face looks a little swollen from sleeping, his hair is messy as usual. He quickly paces to her, "What's wrong, Sam? Are you okay?" he sits beside her on the sofa and kisses her cheek.She doesn't say anythin

Lynn Vandestine He pushes the door open of his new studio.   Painting has always been his hobby, but it is his first time to open a workshop like this. When he was in his adolescence, it wasn't one of his pleasant times. In order to lighten his mood, he used to climb up at the top of his favourite mountain, with papers and paints in the backpack. Often, he brushed colors gently on the canvas, while thinking if a girl would appear in front of him just like that drawing. Now, the place can catch a plenty of natural light, one of the reason why he bought this. The layout is flexible, it's enough big for his work. The paintings around the studio are mostly portraits, but he drew some landscapes, too, tried to do another genre."Hi, Tom!" he greets the guy, who is moving his brush with so much attention, benting towards the easel. Tom is a local artist and a student of art college, once Lynn helped his big brother with a mission, so he k

   It's almost midnight.    I quietly climb up the stairs to the rooftop. There is a little garden of flowers, now they are starting blossoming. I inhale deeply the sweet scent of them, crossing my arms across my chest. The air is cold but refreshing, it starts to calm my mind and I slowly stare up at the sky.     It was my father who first taught me about the stars and constellation. I used to climb up a banyan tree beside our house, then jump at the roof. Dad also used to say that it was dangerous for me to go to the roof at night, but when I capriced to him to teach me the names of stars, he couldn't deny me. It's a moonless night, yeah, there is my favorite star, Rigil Kentaurus. I sigh again, watching the large constellation Ursa Major. Why am I sighing? Shouldn't I be happy tonight? Is something bothering me? "Watching stars?" a male voice says behind me, h