Saturday, December 30, 2017
A
knock on the door woke me. I got up and answered it. There in the archway, was Jack. He did not look me in the eyes, for there was emptiness all around him. I did not ask him why he was here, because I wanted him to stay.
He finally looked up at me and said, "I'm afraid." His eyes did not waver, they were solid on me. And as I looked at that face, the morning sun glimmering through his hair, I could only mouth the words, "Me, too."
I nodded to him, and just like that, he stepped in toward me, and closed the door.
Life works in mysterious ways, unplanned, unplotted. I always feel God is writing the story of my life, on the seat of his pants.
So is the writing process. . .
That morning gave no signsthat we were about to lose someone else.
YOU ARE READING
SWIM Book 1 (Complete three-hundred pages)
Novela Juvenil***EDITOR'S CHOICE AWARD*** What would you do if you only had three months to live? When a tsunami traps a girl, her boyfriend, and four other boys in a bay house, starvation, sexual competition, and territorial war tear them apart. Entangled in a h...
