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On a hill within reach, as if it were the only structure untroubled by the bullets of rain and monstrous winds, stood a fenced two-story home.

"You have two more minutes." he murmured

It was my fault.

An oddly delightful spring morning squandered in vain.

I cry to be pulled out of the darkness.

I met her where the sunlight kissed the earth

"... a picture of a city I had no hand in making."

Calm your soul..

"But first," my great grandfather said, "a tree has to grow before the figs grow!"

Bonus chapter from a novel I've been working on.