The Old Man Broomfield Novels & Stories

“Calder Blue. You must be Brodie Monaghan. I was on my way over to see if I could somehow piss you off next.” Brodie chuckled and took Calder’s hand in one equally broad and improbably more calloused and gave it a firm, welcoming shake. “A Blue, are you now?” His gaze tracked the old man’s progress toward the big boathouse at the end of the pier. “I take it you must be from the other branch.” His grin widened. “Here I thought I had a hard time winning the folks of this fine town over. And they liked my forebears.”

The sun rained fire and there was no sign of clouds in the sky. The corn field danced with the wind and added to the beauty of the farm. The day was hot enough to make the birds flee for shelter yet it couldn't stop little Sofia and Eleanora from playing in the open. The heat didn't seem to bother them at all. They ran around in circles with their ragdolls. The corn was ripe for the harvest but old Bruno knew that the yield, like the next several harvests, would go into repayment of the debts he owed. He sat on his porch with his sickle and tried to gather enough strength to get up. Old Bruno was sure that one of these days his back would betray him. He saw his girls run around recklessly an

With swift cunning, my wolf snatched the broom from the old wolf's grasp just as it swung perilously close, a whisker away from shooing us off his porch. This sparked an impromptu game—an unspoken challenge—that we triumphantly mastered by vaulting over the weathered porch railings. With the broom clamped firmly between our jaws, we reveled in our playful defiance, savoring the symbol of our clever escape from the cantankerous elder. Beneath the whispering canopy, my wolf and I reveled in the caress of a gentle breeze that danced through the leaves, playfully leaping over fallen limbs and dipping our noses into the secrets hidden within weathered logs.

Joe pleaded to hear. “Don't worry, someone will hear us” Brian encouraged before knocking again. The door opened slowly as though a slut were behind it. The opened door revealed an old woman behind it. As if Joe knew it would be a woman that would be the charmer. He wondered why women often played the role of witches and fortune-tellers. Could not the story change a bit. “Brian, son, is it really you?” The old lady guessed. “Good guess, old granny!” Brian commented.

the old woman uttered as he stretched out and took the broom from me. "Here, have some tea," the old woman offered, pouring the hot water in the jug into a cup and handing it to me. "It will help calm you." After eating, stubbornly as the elderly woman stepped out, I gathered the dishes to the kitchen and began to wash them. After washing the plates with the old woman sleeping, I tried to ring Bryan again after several messages that haven't been attended to. The phone rang but still no one was answering. Frustrated, I called the house but he wasn't in the house either.

They were waiting to see if I would break. ‎ ‎Kaelen led me to a large, open-sided structure near the center of the camp. Smoke billowed from three massive stone hearths. The smell of baking bread and roasting meat hit me, heavy, hearty, and real. ‎ ‎"Olara!" Kaelen barked. ‎ ‎An older woman emerged from the steam. She was short and stout, with gray hair pulled back in a severe bun and arms that looked like they could wrestle a steer. She wore a stained apron and held a wooden spoon like a weapon.

I was truly intrigued by this new face in town. The next day I went outside to do my daily routine when I saw this lady again from yesterday who was still on for a search. She still kept on looking and asking people something. Her search went day by day and goes home when it was time for lunch. One morning Mrs. Brooksman knocked on my door. “Hello, Mrs. Brooksman! What can I do for you?” The old lady smiled at me and said, “Hello there Nick! I would actually ask a favor from you.” My eyebrows arched and politely asked, “What is it Mrs. Brooksman? Anything for a fair woman.” She lightly tapped my shoulder “Oh you are such a sweet child. Well then, there was this young lady who knocked on my d

His mind contorted all sorts of plans as he watched the old master approach him steadily. His body shook violently as the old man came closer and he fell on his knees. The old man watched Bram's act quietly. He had always seen Bram as a ticking time bomb. One waiting to explode at any moment. Bram had always appeared to be a useless low key member of the family and a husband that followed the trails of his wife but the old man could see through him, the mastermind.

The old man laughed and said, "Once you deal with Wilbur and Eileen, why don't you deal with Braum too? He's no longer on our side." "That's just a piece of cake. However, I want sixty percent of Braum and Eileen's assets after that," Seymour said as he looked at the old man. The old man laughed, "Not a problem. As long as the two of us are united, there's nothing we can't solve." "See you in ten days. Super Sanctuary level? Hahaha…" The stylish man walked out as he laughed. The old man stood up, saying, "Come." An assistant walked in and bowed.

Nyra stared at the screen blankly for a few seconds before raising an eyebrow, “Why am I looking at a picture of Professor Moore?” Elara turned her head sharply to her friend, tears pooling in her eyes, “That's my brother” Nyra inhaled loudly, the sound harsh in the quiet of the room, like she’d been punched in the chest. “What the fuck.”