I'd say something insightful, but I haven't got anything to say.  Read as you wish, do as you wish, and above all, enjoy yourselves.

(How odd!  Since when was the list closed to posting by non-members?  Tried to send this by an un-subbed account.  Ah, must check that long old FAQ...)

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The hoary old man settled himself in the beach chair, watching the neighbor's children play half naked in the gentle waves that lapped quietly against the California shore line.  He dipped his old-fashioned quill pen in the ink pot, then tapped it against his chin, pondering over what he was going to write in the beaten up journal upon his lap.  He saw little Timmy leap out over the waves, the sun catching in his golden hair, and suddenly, he started writing furiously, the quill scratching the paper harshly.

'Children are sun-loving creatures.  We watch them playing beneath golden rays, wishing we were once more in their places, laughing and innocent.  We give them everything we have, for truly, in the final end, they are all we have.

'A laughing, sunlit child picks up a gun, thinking, -I shall play cowboys and Indians today! Bang! Bang!-...you're dead.

'Shadows do not care about innocence and love.  They slide into sunlight worlds sneakily, a tendril here, a wisp there, until you find yourself caught in a web of shadow, and it is ever so difficult to break free.  

'The Shadows bring only sadness, and the laughter fades away in its fog.  It is sadder still when a child, a sweet innocent, is caught in that net of gray, for that means we have failed.

'On July 1, 1982, we failed.  We never even had a chance.'

The old man closed the book with a dull thud, and shifted restlessly in his chair.  His troubled Asian face eased as he watched Timmy's younger sister Sarah roundly trounce him.  It was good, he thought, that there was only one.

"Mr. Tokugama!" squealed little Timmy, running towards the old Japanese man.  "Did you hear?!  Kennedy is president!  Yayyy!"

"Certainly," said the old man, pretending to be offended.  "I watch something else on TV than cartoons, young man!"

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July 1, 1995
Radish Inn, Wyoming


The candles were blown, the wish, however odd, made, the presents opened and laughed over.  It was time to be happy, and content, yet the phone rang anyway. Vashana instinctively picked it up.

"Hello?" she said, trying to be as uninviting as possible.
"HAPPY...!" a voice screeched out on the other end.

Vashana pulled the phone away from her ear.

"BIRTHDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!"

Sighing, she placed the phone back against her offended ear.  "Hello, Shanon."

"Isn't it great, 'Shana?!" squealed Sharon.  "I mean, you're THIRTEEN!  That's like, practically an adult!  I bet your parents will extend your curfew, won't that be COOOL?!"

"I don't have a curfew, Sharon.  And the name is Vashana."

"You DON'T?!  Wow, what cool parents!  I wish mine were more like yours!"

Vashana could feel the headache coming on.

"So, what'd you get for your birthday?!"

"How'd you get this number?" asked Vashana, suspicious.

"Oh, you left an emergency number with your neighbor, Jane?, and she's my mom's, like, BEST friend, well, maybe not BEST, but a really good second, and so we were over there and..."

*click*

Shanon stared in puzzlement at the innocent handset.  -Hunh.  Must've gotten cut off.-

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Chapter One coming sometime around New Year's!

Alandra.