HALLOWED BE THY NAME

   Earnest Henry parked his Buick at the northernmost corner of Maple Lane, locked the driver's side door with the key, and began to walk.

   Surrounding him on either side were rows of analogous single-story ranches, each of them lined by modest lawns, one car garages and aged trees that doubled as natural solar deterrents. He adjusted his baseball cap, wiped the sweat from the square rims of his spectacles, and walked - one, two, three, four blocks, until he reached his destination, number 7 Maple Lane.

   He gulped, adjusted the waistband of his high-water khakis and tightened his jock-bag (a ritual he'd been practicing almost every Wednesday for the past two months), before beginning up the stone path to the front door.

   In the carport adjacent to the house sat an early model Oldsmobile almost identical to his Buick. She was home, and that was comforting to him. Even more comforting was the absence of her husband's Lexus SUV.

   Elongated by the October sun, Earnest watched his shadow as if it were his enemy, a sly, distrustful figure that was the darkness to his light. He stepped out of the path of the sunlight, into the shade of the porch, drew in a deep breath, exhaled, repeated. His heart was now beating drastically, a shameful heartbeat, ridden with the guilt of what he was about to do.

   His hand protectively on his jock-bag, he took one last nervous glance around the neighborhood. The coast is clear, He thought, breathing short, shallow, guilty breaths.

   Pointer finger tremulous on the button, Earnest rang the doorbell and quickly recoiled to the side, out of view of the screen door.

   A voluptuous silhouette appeared in the frame of the screen door, casting a swollen shadow on the stone path. Sweat dripped from his upper lip into his mouth, a dreadful, salty bitterness that made him flinch with distaste.

   The door creaked open. Earnest dug into the bottom of his right pocket, grasped it, made sure it was there, then nervously appeared in the doorway, his heart slamming against his chest so radically that his unseasonable cardigan sweater seemed to pulse in rhythm with it.

   "You made it! I was starting to think you wouldn't."

   Earnest licked his trembling lips, and said: "You're surprised?"

   The door swung open slowly and the brazen silhouette leaned, kissed him on his cheek. He flushed, his body overcome with dry heat from the feel of her soft lips.

   He pulled backward and took another vigilant glance around the neighborhood.

   "What are you so worried about?"

   "Sometimes people see things."

   "They're gonna see what they want to see."

   "I can't have that."

   She lead him indoors, out of the heat and into the pleasantly cool foyer. "You and I are friends, right? I need someone to talk to. You're the only one I can talk to."

   She was full of ****, and she knew it was well as he did. She lied to herself for the same reason he did; guilt-suppression.

   Earnest jumped as the screen door snapped closed behind him.

   "Are you okay? You're really jumpy today."

   "Huh? Oh, yeah...it's just..." He clutched the thing in his pocket. "I thought someone might have seen me. That's all."

   He followed her through the foyer as if he'd never been there before. His sweaty palms nestled deep into his pockets, Earnest surveyed the area as if it were a densely ornamented museum, feigning admiration as a form of positive distraction.

   Report cards were affixed to the refrigerator by DISNEY WORLD magnets, and the aroma of that morning's breakfast still drifted in the air.

   Leading him down the narrow hallway, she said "It's a shame what happened to Joan Nichols."

   Family portraits hung in no discernable arrangement along the walls; Pictures of her, her husband, her children - all smiling ardently, as if to radiate the illusion of a perfect family.

   "I know." He jumped. "I just came from the burial."

   Earnest followed her to the end of the hall, into the den, where she told him to have a seat. He complied, treading the edge of the sofa as if afraid of losing his balance. Still, he clutched at the thing in his pocket, squeezing it with apprehensive excitement.

   "Must have been sad." Katherine asked as she began to unbutton her dress.

   "It was."

   "Did they ever catch who did it?"

   Earnest's eyes bulged as we watched her dress fall down the contours of her waving hips. "No...er, not that I heard anyway."

   "I went to the viewing last night. It was so horrible that she couldn't have an open casket. I heard her throat was slashed, and her face was barely recognizable."

   "I didn't see her body." He answered, squeezing away. "But that's what I heard."

   "Are you okay?" She watched him through adoring blue eyes that penetrated out from beneath dark hair that rested on her broad shoulders, strands of which clung to her sweaty temples. Her face appeared at least ten years younger than her forty-six years, and often caused Earnest to question exactly what she even saw in him.

   She knelt before him, unzipped his pants. He clutched the cushion in nervous recoil, gulped. "I suppose."

   "Are you uncomfortable?"

   A short pause, then, lying: "No."

   Her dress now pooled at her feet, she leaned in to him, met his lips with hers, dispatching an exasperatingly cold heat through his body. An erection surged from beneath his trousers, which he foolishly tried to hide.

   Still kissing at him, she unbuttoned his cardigan and pushed it off of his shoulders, did the same with his shirt.

   "Make love to me." She quietly demanded.

   Wrapped in his palm, he pulled it from his pocket, brought it out...

   No. He told himself, overcome by guilt, the same guilt as always, and drew his fist back, hiding it behind him. This is just...not...right...

   But her touch on him...her lips on his...her scent...

   He attacked her with a deep, tongue-laden kiss, a man possessed, trying hopelessly to fight temptation. One hand wrapped itself around her fleshy neck, while the other entered his pocket and opened, releasing the thing.

   Breaking away from him, panting in soft swallows, she asked "Do you love me?"

   Before he could answer she reached behind him, unfastened the clips of his jock-bag, let the dreadfully heavy thing drop onto the carpet, and unzipped his pants.

   Evading response, Earnest reached around, grappled with her ample thighs and drew his mouth into her stomach. In his mind he fought the urge to continue, but in the battle between the mind and the body, the body often wins.

   She moaned. "Tell me. Oh, tell me."

   "Tell you..." He continued at her with his mouth as his hands traversed the landscape of her legs.

   Pull away from her. Do it now. This is not right, and you know it. Pull away from her and go. Take a cold shower, take a long walk, play a game of Goddamn solitaire. End it now! There's still time!

   But his body protested. Pulling away from her now was no more possible than his ability to travel through time. His physical urge overpowered his emotional morality, and though it really wasn't too late, it was, all the same.

   C'mon, be strong! Get out of there!

   With his mouth now pressed against her thigh, he took the thing out of his pocket, opened his fist, let it rest in his palm and watched it from the corner of his eye with swallowed contempt. It had been given to him by someone very special, someone detrimental to the man he'd become - to the man he'd been not long before. He imagined what she would think - how she would feel - had she known what he was doing there in the den of his mistress.

   Still, the guilt did little to control his physical urge. His pants were now unzipped, pooling around his ankles.

   Dear Lord, forgive me for what I am about to do. Forgive me and give me the strength not to do it again.

   He thought that he should have asked for the strength not to do it now, but he didn't, he couldn't.

   "Tell me you love me." She softly requested as she slid him into her.

   No sound left his tongue except for the shallow breath of a sigh.

   "Tell me."

   "I can't"

   "I love you."

   "I can't."

   "Tell me you love me, please."

   "I...can't"

   "I love you. Tell me."

   "I..."

   "Tell me!"

   After a long pause, Katherine asked, "Why aren't we together, Earnest? Why can't we be together?"

   "Made some choices...maybe the wrong ones."

   "Do you really consider the choices you've made wrong?"

   Ignoring her question, immersed in her sexuality, he responded: "Do you?"

   "I love you. I'll leave him. I promise you. I'll leave him if you leave..."

   He stared at her through glassy eyes. Still submerged in her sex, he found himself trailing off, almost detached from the physical Zen that could have been that moment.

   "I don't love you." He admitted, and again wondered whether or not he was lying. "Not the way you love me. I'm sorry."

   Anger rose from the pit of her stomach and tears etched the rims of her eyes. Her lips quivered not with the pain of rejection, but the antagonism of it.

   "You sonofabitch!" She braced her arm, palm open, and met his face with a clap. His mouth rattled, each one of his teeth throbbing from inside his gums. Stinging tears swelled in his eyes.

   She pulled away from him and took one step backward.

   "Don't you hit me again!" He warned, and for the first time since she'd met him, she could see in his eyes authentic fury.

   She slapped him, again. His head snapped backward and then to the side. When he met her glare again he was huffing like an enraged dragon. Fire burned from within his eyes, and the steam from those blazes piped from out of his nostrils.

   "I hate you." She said.

   He said nothing.

   She stormed out of the den, into the hallway.

   Earnest pulled up his pants and gathered his clothing from the floor.

   Appearing in the doorway, eclipsing the light from the autumn afternoon with her fleshy body, Katherine complained. "You come here once a week, you **** me. You tell me that you've never had a woman like me, that you've never met anyone like me...."

   Her fists were clenched and her voice was shaky, yet she still looked sexy to him. And despite his self-deprecating abhorrence, given the opportunity, he would take her again, in spite of his moral notebook, which he was struggling to close.

   "Katherine, please,"

   Her eyes were blue fireballs, ready to spit flares from their coronas. Her lips had drawn back in a snarl, and her flesh had become the color of roses. Despite her rancor, Earnest was surprised to have been wanting her again.

   "What is it you expected to gain from this? From us?"

   Earnest bowed his head. "I don't know."

   "Why do you come here? Is it to use me? Is that it? To use me because I'm the only woman around who has low enough self esteem to give myself to you?"

   Earnest felt his temperature rising, sweat forming at his temples. "That's ridiculous."

   "It is, isn't it?"

   Getting up from the couch, his shirt and sweater draped over his forearm, his jock-bag dangling from his fist, Earnest walked toward the doorway.

   "Where do you think you're going?"

   "I have to leave."

   Her eyes brightened with fervor. "What?"

   "I'm sorry." He said, looking at the ground.

   "Is that all you know how to say, that you're sorry?"

   Still unable to look in her eyes, he humbly said "That's all I know."

   Stepping aside, Katherine huffed, and now tears had begun to withhold the inferno that was raging within her. There was a rigid silence between them as Earnest made his way toward the front door.

   Katherine broke it. "But you want to know something?"

   The wavering tone in her voice alarmed Earnest. He stopped short and turned to her.

   "I'm going to tell everyone about us." She sniffed. "I'm going to let the cat out of the bag. I can't take this pain anymore. I can't take not being loved by you, not after how much of myself I've already given to you! I'm telling Joseph as soon as he gets home. I can't be with him anymore, anyway. I don't love him. Why should I lead him on this way?"

   "Katherine, please. Just think about what you're saying."

   "All you care about his your precious little image, what you portray. You're a phony, though. I know it, and everyone else is going to know it!"

   Thick beads of sweat formed at his temples and his hairline. His eyeglasses slipped down the bridge of his nose from the condensation on his skin.

   "You wouldn't do that, Katherine. I know you."

   "I can, and I will! I promise you."

   Tears were streaming down her cheeks steadily, yet she wasn't crying. She sniffed and shuddered, but refused to allow herself to revert to sobbing. She needed to remain strong. She clenched her fists tighter at her sides.

   "Katherine, please."

   "Get out!"

   Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned.

   His stomach fluttered and his bowels felt the sudden urge to move. His bladder had also been activated. He was shaking now, and his arms were little more than wobbling strands. If Katherine were to release the secret between them, his life, his reputation, would be forever ruined. His family would disown him; his friends would turn their backs. Too many people stood to be hurt from this revelation.

   Again, he studied pulled the thing from his pocket, held it in his palm, underneath the watchful eye of the ceiling light. She would be hurt most of all. She would never be able to forgive him.

   Biting her bottom lip to repress imminent sobbing, Katherine turned her back to him.

Still, somehow, she looked sexy. If he could just tell her he loved her. If only to save her the hurt and pain of his rejection, to just tell her what she wanted to hear for now, he could save his reputation, his demise. He could deal with the repercussions another time.

   But he couldn't. He couldn't keep up the affair. It was like digging a hole. Deeper and deeper, every time he came to her, every time he made love to her - deeper and deeper still, until the hole would have gotten so deep that he would be tethering on the gate to hell.

   He had to stop it. Going any further would be mortal - and moral - suicide.

   "I'm sorry."

   Katherine mocked him.  "I've heard it before."

   Detesting himself now more than before, Earnest dropped his shirt and sweater. Sweat dripping, stomach flailing, acid rising from his stomach into his esophagus, Earnest clutched the strap of the jock-bag. He opened his fist, studied it as if he'd never seen it before. The ring; the ring she'd given him.

   By God, Earnest, you're going to do it. A small voice inside of him said.  

   Almost methodically, he knelt before her and unzipped the bag.

   "Katherine?" He asked in a voice so timid that he was unsure if the sound of it were real or imagined.

   "What?" She asked, and turned to face him.

   "Come to me. There's something I want...something I need to do."

   Months of contemplation, of sleepless nights, a seeming lifetime of indecision, was about to unfold right there in the hallway of Katherine Banner's one-story ranch. He knew as he clutched it that the simple revelation of it would change both of their lives, as well as the lives of many others. Like a hand-grenade detonating in a crowded place, there were going to be casualties. But life was full of casualties - some intentional, some not; some perpetual, some not.

   He was unsure at that moment how the repercussions of the revelation he was about to make were going to affect him, and he wondered whether or not it was his brain or his dick that was doing the thinking.

   Katherine watched him kneeling in the hallway, at the point where the hall met the foyer, beneath a portrait of her with her husband and children.

   Her face fell and the fire in her eyes was completely extinguished.

------------------

   It would have been a nice surprise, on any other day. But today, the surprise was anything but.

   Joseph Banner pulled his SUV behind Katherine's car, yanked the emergency brake and reached over to the passenger seat. He slid his finger into a piece of twine and lifted the white box with which it had been bound. With a smile on his face, he turned the motor off and walked up the stone path to his front door.

   It was a rare occasion that Joe Banner left work early, and in light of his wife's recent disapproval of his long work hours, Mr. Banner decided it would have been a nice surprise to turn up at the house in the middle of the day, during lunch hour - while the kids were still at school - with pastries, a bottle of wine, a dozen roses and a libido.

   Whistling as he strode up the path, he noticed his wife's plus-size silhouette in the window.

   Katherine never locked the door in the daytime - in this neighborhood one didn't need the intense security, even in the wake of Joan Nichols's murder - yet when Joe fumbled to rotate the doorknob he was surprised when his palm was hindered.

   He took a step backward and craned his neck. The silhouette was gone.

   Knocking and having her answer would spoil such an ingenious surprise as this, so Joseph set the box of pastries on the ground beside the welcome mat which stated THE BANNER FAMILY WELCOMES YOU, and, still holding the wine under his arm, retrieved the key from his pocket.

   Gaiety tackled him as he sank the key into the hole and unlocked the door. He allowed the front door to swing open as the bent over to retrieve the box of pastries.

   "Katherine?" He called as he entered into the foyer. "Katherine, I'm home."

   He was met with the silenced bullet of a .45.

------------------

   Katherine would have screamed her husband's name as he fell backward in slow motion, a mist of blood spraying from the back of his head, but the strip of duct tape affixed tightly against her lips prevented it.

   "I'm sorry." Earnest offered, then closed the door.

   Sitting on the hallway floor, pressed up against the wall, Katherine Banner wept, sobbed. She couldn't control it anymore because she had no more control.

   Earnest stood over Joseph Banner and was horrified by the sight of his deformed face. The close range bullet had entered his skull on the bridge of his nose, reconstructing the interpretation of his human face, turning it into that of a melted wax figure. Blood and brains were scattered everywhere, but not on Earnest. That was good enough for him.

   He turned to Katherine and licked sweat from his upper lip, then knelt down and placed his smoldering gun back into the jock-bag. He retrieved the duct tape from the carpet- with which he'd also bound Katherine's hands - and shoved it back into the bag as well.

   He slid the ring onto his finger, then fumbled in the bag for a moment, producing a small, flat black, palm-sized object.

   Her unwavering weeping was beginning to annoy him.

   He pressed the object against the side of her throat, thumbed a button on the side of it and sent an ungodly amount of electric voltage through her.

   After a few minutes of convulsions - during which Earnest paced uneasily - Katherine Banner closed her eyes, free from the pain.

------------------

   The dull-black taser was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes, beside which sat Earnest Henry in some therapeutic-looking cross-legged position. His eyes were closed, and his hands were folded. To her he appeared to have been in the depths of some kind of prayer meditation.

   She tried to plead with him, but she was chagrined to find her mouth was still taped. She struggled to move, but realized the same of her hands and ankles.

   The ruffling startled Earnest from his meditative state. He rose to his feet, and behind him, Katherine could see the bloody remains of her husband.

   "He scared me." Earnest said as he approached her. Katherine was taunted by his wide blink-less eyes as they stalked her. Her open robe exposed her breasts and her underwear, and she found it horribly ironic that she now felt vulnerable when only minutes ago she was using her body to seduce him.

   Katherine's eyes bulged beyond the tape which bound her mouth, and although there were no words traveling on the air, her simple expression begged for his mercy.

   "I didn't expect him to come in so suddenly. If I hadn't seen his shadow, he might have come in without me hearing a thing. That wouldn't have been good."

   He once again circled Katherine, thriving off of her fear; a man to whom she'd made love more than a dozen times, a man she didn't really know at all.

   "I always thought this might happen. I always knew it could. You were never really one to be completely trusted."

   He knelt before her and took her face in his grip. He tightened his fingers around her cheeks and liked how goofy her face looked. Then, he closed into her as if he were going to kiss her, then paused.

   "Truth of the matter is, though, this entire thing is my fault. I could have denied your advances. I didn't have to come here when you first invited me. It's my fault that I was so gullible to believe that a woman like you would care for someone else's feelings more than your own. You made me believe it was just physical, no strings. But even then, I should have pushed you away. I would have been right to do that, too. I would have been fine, no matter who found out."  He twisted his ring obsessively. "A lot of people would be disappointed in me if you went out there and ran your mouth. You'd have ruined a lot of lives."

   Katherine begged, pleading with her eyes - her only outlet for communication - and tried to assure him that she would keep the secret if he'd show her mercy.

   "I can't trust you, though." Turning toward Mr. Banner's corpse, he lowered his head. "Not after this."

   Katherine tried to force something from her lips. It sounded like she was saying I Promise.

   "Promises, promises." Earnest mocked. "The whole world is full of them. I've made some promises, too, and although I could never have imagined the day on which I would break them, I find myself here, swimming in a sea of broken promises. You see, Katherine, we are human. Humans make mistakes. After all, no one is perfect, except for God, that is."

   He leaned over and pulled his jock-bag toward him, knocking the taser out of the way. He reached in an extracted the wooden handle of a switch blade.

   Katherine cried at the sight of it, shaking her head back and forth, petrified of what might be coming next.

   Earnest gripped her face once more. "Please, stop that. It's really annoying."  He held the blade in front of him, studying its handle.

   "I know it seems like I came prepared for this, but I promise you I never thought it would really come down to it. I am a man who likes to be prepared, as you probably know. As far as the gun, the taser, the tape and knife...well, it was all precaution. I never thought you would one on whom I would have to use them."

   Dread became Katherine's stomach, and she found that she had to struggle to contain her bladder. Finally, when she couldn't anymore, she released it.

   Earnest grinned, slid his tongue between his teeth, and right then he reminded Katherine of a serpent, a demon. He bit onto his tongue, lightly at first, then applied more pressure.

   The whites of his eyes turned red, as did the unusually pale skin on his face.

   He bit down harder and harder until his face was trembling for release.

   Finally drawing blood, he released the pressure and his teary eyes began to laugh.

   He thumbed the switchblade open, and the filtered sunlight reflecting off of it made Katherine have to squint.

   Why? Her eyes asked. Why me? Why him? Please just let me go...I won't tell anyone about us, I promise!  If she could have actually spoken those words they would have been interrupted by hallow gasps and quivers.

   As his own blood trickled down his chin, Earnest said "Our Father..."

   He brought the blade to her throat. "Who Art in Heaven..."

   "Hallowed Be Thy Name..."

   Smiling with wild eyes and a bloody chin, Earnest jammed the blade into her fleshy neck, twisted it and jagged it along an invisible line to the other side of her throat. She never screamed. The only sound he heard was the choking sound of her gargling on her own blood in her pierced esophagus.

   As she wheezed and groaned, Earnest plucked a glob of fresh blood from the wound in her throat and mixed it with the open wound on his tongue. It tingled within the muscle and Earnest marveled silently at how much he felt like God.

   God can give life, but He also can take it away.

   Drunk with power, Earnest ran his lucid palm across Katherine's face. "Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will Be Done...On Earth As It Is In Heaven..."

   Katherine wavered on the edge of life long enough for Earnest to finish the prayer. Then, with her eyes wide and pale, she left the tangible world for another place, a place where she hoped she'd be able to find her husband and tell him she was sorry for all that had happened.

   She stared at him, not seeing a thing, as Earnest packed his things. He was God, and God was him, and with her blood in his they were together in likeness, the way God's likeness is in all things, just like he and Joan Nichols had become one just a few nights ago.  Freedom was the greatest aphrodisiac. For Katherine, and for Joan, it was freedom from the perils of the world. For Earnest, it was freedom from the torturous binds of his own itches; itches that had been scratched.

   All she had to do was give him a reason to release her...

   And that she did.

   To feel like God was to be God.

   Earnest left the house feeling like God - being God. The world looked different to him now. Each of the similar houses on the block looked different, unique. The sky looked bluer, the sun brighter. There was no more timidity in his step, no more insecurity, no more mortality.

   Psychologists called it a God complex.

   But underneath the skin of it all, it was anything but complex.

------------------

   Josiah Williams prepared the chalice for the mass. As the church's sacristan, he had been doing this three times a day for that past thirteen years. Never before, however, had he done it with tears in his eyes.

   "It's just terrible what's happening." He said, sniffling as he wiped the edge of the golden cup.

   "They will be missed, that's for sure." Dorothy Meyer agreed. She thumbed through the pages of that weeks Missle, searching for the opening hymn - the one with which she was to lead the congregation. "I hope they catch the bastards that did it. I really do."

   "Me, too." Josiah said and reached for a fresh Kleenex. "This church will never know a couple like the Banners again. It's such a big loss."

   From behind them, Deacon Daniel Jeffries assisted the celebrating priest pull a vestment over his head. "Are you ready for this?"

   "I can't say that I am. You?"

   "I don't think anything can really prepare you for something like this, not even the Seminary."

   From beyond the sacristy, a wave of sighs broke an otherwise placid silence over the congregation.

   "The funeral procession is here." The priest said.

   He twisted a ring on his left finger, to which was affixed a miniature gold crucifix. "Dear Lord, give me the strength." He closed his eyes, lowered his head and whispered. "Our Father, Who Art In Heaven..."

   "That is really a beautiful ring." Deacon Jeffries interrupted.

   "Thank you," The Priest said humbly. "My mother gave it to me for my ordination."

   "I've always admired it. She must be really proud of you."

   "She is."

   Soft organ Music hushed the sighs, and six stout men in black suits began down the aisle on either side of a casket draped in a green and white vestment. Stitched into the top of the vestment was a crucifix.

   Directly behind them, six more men escorted a second casket.

   Sobs and heaves penetrated the song, and looking out onto the congregation, Deacon Jeffries watched the parish community pay their final respects to two of the church's most active members.

   Deacon Jeffries wiped a single tear from his eye. "It seems unreal. First Joan Nichols, and now The Banners. I'm scared. What is going on?"

   "It's a crazy place, this world. Full of evil. Are you alright?" The Priest asked, resting a comforting hand on the Deacon's shoulder.

   "Yes." Deacon Jeffries answered. "It's harrowing, that's all. It's hard to grasp."

   "Yes, it is."

   When the procession reached the altar, the dozen men in black suits carefully steered the caskets, parked them side by side before the altar, and escorted the families of the deceased to their reserved seats.

   Silence swept the congregation as the pipes of the organ ceased to blow.

   Twisting his ring, The celebrating priest, Father Earnest Henry, leaned over the altar, extended his arms toward Heaven, and said: "Let Us Pray."

THE END

Keyword: Hallowed be thy name jon stalk Earnest Henry

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Comments (10)

Posted by philneale1952 2008-08-06 02:47:38 Awesome I thought this was a little long at first, but by the time I was past the first paragraph or so, I was hooked. The attention to detail and unhurried scene setting does you proud. The ending left me breathless, although I saw it coming at around the three quarter point. Absolutely great story. Phil + Report this comment
Posted by chaabuk 2008-08-10 12:41:39 Wow! The hallmark of a good writer is attention to detail, that gets a reader hooked (hook, line and sinker). I was rivetted by the story. Father Henry holds the centrestage. Good work. + Report this comment
Posted by villanova21 2008-08-22 18:20:27 Enjoyment I too was hooked into this story! You got a real talent for writing, and I hope you keep it up. + Report this comment
Posted by anonymous 2008-09-18 06:32:25 nice! longer than i expected, but it still keeps you hooked so you dont realize the length. very well thought and realistic in a way, yet different in a way also. two thumbs up! + Report this comment
Posted by Forsaken 2008-09-18 11:27:01 Brilliant!! This was fantastic! Well done! + Report this comment
Posted by allmine 2008-09-18 20:12:11 .... Wow, I very rarely read stories this long on here but I was hooked on this one. This was so fantastic. Kinda hit close to home too. Wow, wow, wow. I know, but this was very well written and I loved it + Report this comment
Posted by Cyraus Foldger 2008-09-22 21:27:40 Genius! I wasn't surprised at the brilliance of this piece, as all your other ones are. You are a real writer who can process and translate these emotions into words like no one else can. The vivid descriptions of mixed feelings, the abnormal passion and those powerful worlds. So entrancing. So much suspense! I was hooked within the first paragraph. It was an amazing story. Again, you are on my favorites! ^^ Sincerest grattitude, Cyraus + Report this comment
Posted by mlippart 2008-09-27 03:35:09 Great stuff Really well done- my thoughts echo the other comments here, so I won't repeat them- had me hooked. + Report this comment
Posted by Scott 2008-10-28 08:24:30 Fine job! Your description strategy is excellent. I was pulled in at the first sentence. I hope to read more of your work on Blogspot. + Report this comment
Posted by dragonfly0125 2008-11-12 20:27:22 Genius Oooh! Love it, Mr Stalk hehe! I'm sorry I haven't had the time to come over here and read these before now! This is my first of your short stories that I've read, and I just love it! Can't wait to read more. Well done! + Report this comment

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