34. One More Mistake

"I guess it had to play out this way, huh?"

She rubbed her wrist, and looked one moment resigned and the next frightened, but never sorry or surprised. Why should she be?

"Nothing to say."

He took a step forward, and his eyes must have flashed, because hers widened and her chin trembled. She wasn't up for any of this. Give her enough time and she'd learn to fake it, but her heart would never be in it.

"Are you going to kill me?"

Jake snorted.

"I don't have to, sweetie."

It wasn't her first mistake. Might not be her last.

33. Sis

"Moody little bitch, isn't she."

Jake couldn't afford to give her more than a sidelong glance, so he shot one her way. He almost added a shrug, but he couldn't lie to her.

She pulled a chair up close to him at that little kitchen table, and set a cup down in front of him, filled with the hot chocolate she'd been stirring since he walked into the room.

"I can't quite get it right, can I?"

"She's not the worst you've done, but yeah, you do a hell of a job picking them. When are you going to give yourself a break?"

Her hand brushed a loose shock of hair out of his eye and smoothed it back into the mass of his hair.

Jake's brother walked in, then, as he always fortunately did.

"She likes the Bears, so I guess she can't be all bad. How long is she staying?"

32. Waiting Impatiently

An old woman paces in front of an office building. Not well dressed, but not poorly dressed. She holds a bottle of water. Her face look careworn, or perhaps only tired. It is early. People are filing into work, their minds on the day ahead or the night just left behind. They might see her, or they might not. It is immaterial. If they saw her, and saw her face, and held out a hand to help, it would come to nothing. They cannot help her. She is waiting for the only person who can help her. Impatiently waiting, and wondering where she is. What is keeping her? Why is she doing this to me? Why is she always doing this to me?

31. Back Burner

Does God ever lose track of us - put us on the back-burner mid-scheme as something new and wonderful pops into His mind and commands his attention?

Has He ever put a thing into motion and then let His mind wander and leave the miracle of creation he had been fostering to go it alone, a wonder how things had just petered out after having gotten off to such a wonderful start?

How many prophecies ended mid-sentence and were left a fragment in a potential prophet's mind?

How many epic tales ended on a dock in some seaside village because God turned his attention elsewhere and the would-be hero noticed a fetching maid selling fish and thought he might mosey over and chat and I suppose that quest-thingy can wait a bit?

How many divine plans have withered for lack of attention, cultivars gone wild and flourished or drooped and died because His hands became busy with a star system that just wasn't quite right, or some exciting new bacteria?

How many unfinished masterpieces litter His studio?