#Sharing – #Serial – #TheEmissary1 – #Chapter4

Chapter 4
“On the Road Again”
Willie Nelson

~~~

 Another Lonely Stretch of Highway,
Closer to Here but Not Far from There,
And Fast Approaching Dawn.

WILLIE NELSON’S NASAL warbling filled the cabin of the big semi. More of a classic rock fan, Jake still found himself singing along. Maybe it was the catchy, easy to remember refrain, or the downhome sound of the tune. Or maybe it just fit his circumstances to a T. Whatever it was, it was irresistible.

As he sang, the sky lightened to a pale gray, washed with the first hints of pink. The fear and confusion of the past week became a distant memory, until even that faded away with the last remnants of the night.

He’d always been a man who favored daybreak over sunset. The first was about fresh, new beginnings, while the gaudy red and gold of the second only reminded him that he was saying goodbye to yet another day. At forty-one, each of those days had been precious to him, but they’d slipped by faster and faster with every passing year, some overflowing with good memories, others weighed down by tragic ones, but all disappearing into yesterday with terrifying speed.

When the radio went to a commercial break, Jake turned it off. He chose to replay his encounter with Azrael instead, still amazed at the circumstances in which he found himself. After all, how many people are yanked right out of the line outside the Pearly Gates, and sent directly back to earth, complete with brand new powers and a mission to perform? Apparently, none. Until now.

A staggering thought, indeed.

If Azrael could be believed—and surely the angel didn’t include lying in his astounding repertoire—this was a whole new concept. The angel had decided having emissaries here on earth to watch for lost souls was an idea whose time had come. If Jake hadn’t leapt into the river that very day, to save a woman he’d never laid eyes on before, he wouldn’t have been waiting in line to find out where he would spend eternity at that precise moment.

He smiled, pondering the serendipity of it all. The world always turned on those split-second decisions, didn’t it? Those small, seemingly unimportant moments that had such far-reaching consequences. Left or right? Keep trying or quit? This or that, now or later, paper or plastic?

It astounded him how random his personal moment of truth had turned out to be. Drive on by, or jump in the cold, dark river? Instead of moving on to the next life, whichever one he’d earned, he’d become part of something bigger than he’d ever even imagined. He’d been given the chance to make a meaningful difference in people’s lives, and that seemed wondrous beyond words.

Now, all he had to do was find more people who needed help.

~~~ 

At a Red Formica Table in a Dreary Truck Stop Diner,
Halfway Through the Long Side of Georgia,
And Waiting for the Midnight Hour.

THE COLD EGG yolk congealed and smeared across Jake’s plate was far less tempting than it had been thirty minutes ago, when the over-medium eggs still nestled next to four crisp rashers of bacon, and two slices of buttery toast. He’d had an appetite when he asked for the late-night breakfast, a staple at all truck stop diners, but it had disappeared within minutes of placing his order. By the time the food arrived, Jake did little more than push it this way and that on the plate, while he downed three scalding cups of strong, black coffee.

Azrael had warned him to take care of his body in his normal, reasonably healthy manner—translation, remember to eat, drink, and maintain personal hygiene. He tried to do at least that much, but the last two days had made Jake rethink his initial enthusiasm for this mission he’d accepted. A dull gray pall was creeping over the edges of his awareness, coloring everything around him.

The long hours on the highway, cruising in and out of truck stops and rest areas from Florida into central Georgia, had netted him nothing lately. Not a lost or imperiled soul had he seen. Apparently, he sucked at this.

When he’d first hit the road in a state of ignorance that turned out not to be quite as blissful as it might have been, he’d spotted two runaways in trouble right off the bat. And not long after that, he’d picked up Hunter, a poster boy for lost souls, if there ever was one. But now that he understood what he’d been asked to do, he couldn’t spot a lost dog, much less a person in need of help. What was up with that?

Was he missing obvious clues? Not paying enough attention? He didn’t think so. He’d certainly been trying. He’d stared at a woman in one diner hard enough that she stormed out in a huff, but not before reporting him to the manager as “some sort of pervert.” Geez, that had been mortifying, and he’d had to talk fast to escape without getting into real trouble. Obviously, he needed to practice being a bit more subtle, along with more observant.

The only other patron in the diner tonight was a youngish girl, sitting in the back corner with a book in front of her. He’d watched her when he first arrived and seen nothing unusual about her, except that she was by herself at a truck stop. At midnight. But that, in itself, wasn’t enough of a reason for him to intrude on her privacy. Now and then, he glanced in her direction, hoping for a sign she needed help, and then realized what he was doing. He gave himself a mental smack. He wasn’t supposed to go around wishing misery on people, whether it made his life more purposeful or not.

No, he wasn’t handling his new responsibilities well at all. Disheartened and red-faced, he felt he owed the young lady an apology, but after what happened with the last woman, he supposed telling this one he was sorry for something she didn’t even know he’d been thinking might not be such a good idea.

He stole a quick glance her way again, and stopped, cup midway to his mouth. A waitress was standing at her booth, hands on hips, while the girl stared at her empty cup, shaking her head. After a few minutes, the waitress threw up her hands, and stomped away, calling over her shoulder, “Five more minutes. That’s it.”

As soon as she was alone again, the girl pulled a cell phone out of her purse, but after staring at it in silence, laid it next to her cup, then put her head in her hands. Jake felt her pain clear across the room, but he remained seated, watching as inconspicuously as he could. Not all troubles were the same, and he wanted to be sure what was going on before he stepped in.

She was young, all right—late teens, at the most—and the dark circles under her eyes seemed obvious now, though he hadn’t noticed them earlier. She fidgeted, chewing on her fingernail and darting quick glances out the window. Had something the waitress said to her made her that nervous, or had she just been good at hiding it earlier?

The waitress returned, apron gone, and her purse over her shoulder. “Last chance,” she called to the girl, who refused to look up. “Okay, hon. Your funeral.”

The woman walked out the door, and the girl grabbed her phone again, scrolled down a bit, and then sat, finger poised over the screen. The door to the kitchen banged open, and a greasy-looking guy in a dirty apron strolled through, leering at the girl.

“He ain’t comin’ back, you know. He’s moved on. Found hisself someone else to drag around. Seen his type here before, doin’ business in the far end of the lot. You ain’t the first to get left behind by his kind. You’re just lucky he left you in one piece.”

She muttered something Jake couldn’t hear, but the man was having none of it. “You keep tellin’ yerself that all you want, but you ain’t foolin’ nobody. You gotta sell, if you wanna ride the circuit with the likes of him. Either dope or sex. You gotta sell. So, the way I see it is, you got two choices, here. You owe me for that meal you ate, an’ Darlene said you ain’t got no money. I’ll take drugs—or you. Or I’ll toss you outside and lock the door, and see if you make it ‘til morning. So which is it, cutie? Dope or sex, I don’t much care.”

“How much is her bill?”

The man jumped away from the table, bug-eyed and sputtering. “Where the hell’d you come from?”

“Been sitting right over there, listening to this whole conversation. Tell me what she owes. I’ll settle her bill, and pretend I didn’t hear any of it.”

The guy looked Jake up and down, then shook his head in disgust. “She ain’t worth it. Ten bucks’ll do.”

Jake slapped the money down on the table and gave the girl his most reassuring smile. “Come on. Let’s get outta here.”

Tears pooled in her eyes, but she slid out of the booth and followed Jake out the front door. They stood in the parking lot, not speaking as the diner lights winked out, and the cook climbed into his beater of a car, screeching off into the night.

Shivering, she took a deep breath and plunged in. “What do I have to do to pay you back?”

Jake shook his head. “You don’t have to pay me back, but I’m not leaving you here alone. These places aren’t safe after the lights go out.”

“Well, I’m sure not getting in that truck with you.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be climbing into trucks with men you don’t know. Here’s a better idea. Why don’t you use that phone of yours to call the one person in the world who loves you more than anyone else does? I have a feeling you’ve been wanting to do that all evening.”

Jake strolled over to lean against the fender of his truck, giving her some privacy. She hesitated a minute, then made the call. After a tearful conversation, the girl disconnected, then sank down onto the curb.

He took a seat beside her. “Well?”

“She’s coming.”

“Your mom?”

“Yes. She thought she’d never see me again. She said . . . she said she was afraid I might even be dead. And now, she’s coming to get me.”

Her voice broke on a sob, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she cried. When she hiccupped her way to a stop, he gave her his handkerchief. “You did the right thing. I don’t know what happened to make you leave, but it can’t be worse than being abandoned at a dirty truck stop in the middle of nowhere, faced with an impossible choice like that cook gave you.”

“The funny thing is, I can’t even remember what that last fight was about. Except that I was tired of being told what I could and couldn’t do all the time. And who I could see. Mom didn’t like my boyfriend. Said he was too old, and she didn’t trust him.”

A long sigh slid out of her. “She was right, of course. But I thought he was hot, and I got tired of sneaking out to see him. I didn’t know about the drug dealing until after I ran away with him, but it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. He said he loved me. Said the drugs were just something temporary, until he could find a job somewhere.”

Quiet for a moment, she stared off into the night, then continued. “Didn’t turn out like that. First, he made me help him sell them, and then he started pushing me to . . . to . . .”

“To sell yourself as well?”

“Yes.” Her voice was very small. “I told him no, over and over, but he kept saying I would do it if I loved him. When he figured out I wasn’t going to change my mind, he pulled in here and practically shoved me out the door. He told me to wait in the diner, and said he’d be back after he saw a guy about more product. I knew that was a lie. He was never coming back for me.”

They talked for another two hours, before a dark sedan pulled into the lot, and a frantic woman jumped out, racing toward them with her arms opened wide. Mother and daughter clung to each other, sobbing too hard to speak. Once Jake was sure things were okay between the two of them, he headed back to his truck, but not before the girl thanked him and promised to remember all the things they’d talked about.

“Just remember the part about loving yourself and trusting your own judgement. Listen to your conscience, but listen to your mother once in a while, too. Sometimes moms really do know best.”

As he climbed into the cab, the woman approached as well, still blotting tears from her eyes. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping my daughter, and for staying with her until I got here. You’ve been an angel.”

A slow smile spread across Jake’s face. “I’m happy I was able to help, ma’am, but take it from me—I’m definitely no angel.”

~~~

THE SEDAN LEFT the exit ramp and merged with highway traffic. Jake watched the red gleam of the taillights until he could no longer distinguish which car held the girl whose life he’d changed tonight. Though he’d never know what choices she would have made had he not paid her bill, none of her options had been good ones. Now, back in her mother’s care, hopefully she’d study all her choices, and make better decisions in the months and years ahead.

Had her soul been in genuine peril? He wasn’t sure of that, but he would never have left her in that diner with that wretched man, whether her soul was in danger or not. He doubted he’d ever learn if she sorted out her life, but he’d done the best he could for her, and for now, that was enough. It would have to be.

He started up the semi, rumbled down the exit road and onto the highway, and left the truck stop behind. Ready for his next opportunity to make a difference, Jake clicked on the radio just in time to hear the Eagles admonishing him not to let the sound of his own wheels drive him crazy.

It sounded like a good plan.


There you have today’s offering.
Stay tuned for Chapter 5 tomorrow!

THE EMISSARY

#Sharing – #Serial – #TheEmissary1 – #Chapter3

Chapter 3
“Soul Man”
Sam and Dave

~~~

A Still-Dark, Still-Deserted Truck Stop,
Halfway Between Here and There,
Much Later and Much Calmer. 

“THE RULES SEEM pretty straightforward, now that you’ve gone over them in detail. I wish I’d understood all of this before I headed out on the highway the first time.”

“As do I, Jake. You would have been better prepared to do the job, and you would have been safer, too. Dealing with desperate souls in peril is neither an easy nor risk-free proposition, even with the benefit of a few added powers. You are not invulnerable.”

“So I am still mortal, then?”

“Yes. And no. You are in a unique position, I am afraid. None of this has been attempted before, so we are, well . . .”

“Making it up as you go?”

“I was going to say we are in a gray area, but your description would be accurate, as well. Angels are immortal. Humans are not, and as mortal beings, humans have a soul. But you are not exactly human any longer.”

“Because of that whole drowning in the river thing.”

“Exactly. Even angels cannot pretend death did not happen. We brought you back for a reason, but as something very different. Unique.”

“Please tell me I still have a soul.”

“Technically, yes.”

“Technically? Exactly what does that mean?”

“It means your soul is safe for now, but if you do well as an emissary, it will not matter. You will not need it.”

“What if I don’t do well? What if I’m no good at it, or it’s just an impossible task–maybe even a bad idea?”

A touch of blue fire flashed through Azrael’s eyes, disappearing almost as fast as it came. “Please understand, I am convinced this is a good plan. But if I am wrong, or if you do not do well at it, we will end your work as an emissary, and your soul will come back into play.”

“How?”

“At that point, it will be judged, and you will proceed to the afterlife that is your due, exactly as you would have before we gave you this opportunity. Being an emissary for us will not cost you your soul. You will have lost nothing, Jake.”

“Assuming I survive in one piece.”

“Yes, there is that, so you must take these warnings with the utmost seriousness. First, though you cannot be killed by anything that happens in your world, do not assume that holds true in mine. Second, you can still be grievously injured here on earth, as my regrettable loss of temper earlier proved.”

“Meaning I pretty much have to take the same precautions I took before I died. I can’t go barreling down the highway like a reckless fool now, any more than I could as a regular guy.”

“You are getting the idea. It will take a lot more to injure you than in your previous existence, but you must still be careful. I have given you extra strength and resilience along with your new powers, but you have not been granted invincibility.”

“Okay. I think I’ve got it. Can’t die here in my world, but I can be hurt, though not easily. And I should probably stay out of your world as much as possible if I don’t want to end up dodging potentially fatal lightning bolts or being shish-kebabbed by an icicle. Bottom line, be careful. Watch what I’m doing and where. Stay safe.”

“Yes. And be careful of the others you meet on your missions, too. The innocent bystanders, I think you would call them, though one might question the accuracy of that phrase. But you do have an added responsibility to watch out for them as well, when possible. You are charged with helping save the souls of living people in true peril who may need a little bit of direction, but please do not do anything foolish that might end up with bystanders being hastened on their way from this world to the next.”

“Got it. No killing anybody, accidentally or otherwise, even if they deserve it.”

Azrael glared, and Jake held up his hand. “Just kidding.”

“That is your idea of something amusing? I do not understand.”

Jake grinned. “I know. That’s what makes it funny.”

“If you are quite done entertaining yourself at my expense, shall we move along? There are still a few more details to clarify.”

Azrael looked more hurt than annoyed, and Jake regretted his thoughtless words.

“I’m sorry if I sounded like I don’t recognize the importance of what you’ve asked of me. I’m just nervous. One minute, I’m drowning in a dark, muddy river, and the next, I’m in the middle of some sort of angelic brawl. Then I find myself on the highway, driving a big red and white semi—which, by the way, never seems to run low on gas—and suddenly, I’ve broken a bunch of rules, and I’m in big trouble. It’s all happening so fast, I’m way beyond nervous. I’m downright terrified.”

Azrael pondered a moment, blue eyes radiating concern. Leaning across the seat, the angel placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder, and the knot of tension inside Jake melted away.

“Better, now?”

“Much. How’d you do that?”

“No matter. Save your nervous energy for any battles that might lie in your path. That kind of sharpness will give you an edge. I cannot foresee the dangers you might face on the road ahead, but you have no need to be terrified of me. I understand how you went astray before, and it will not count against you any longer. You are starting your mission with a clean record. But in the future, you must be certain that the help you give does not come with extra nudges, or anything else that could confirm, or even hint at, who you represent.”

“Okay. I understand I’m not allowed to do that, but I’m still a bit hazy on why not. Wouldn’t it simplify things if they knew who I work for? If they knew angels were real?”

Azrael sighed. “Why must you be so inquisitive?”

“Human nature. I do still have that, don’t I?”

“Obviously.”

Jake grinned.

Azrael didn’t miss a beat. “And that was supposed to be a good thing. Something that would help you relate to those who need you. I guess I will learn to deal with it.”

Jake shrugged. “You gotta take the good with the bad, right?”

“Agreed. But it works both ways. You must also accept that there are some things I will not be able to explain in a way you would understand, and there will be others that I am simply not at liberty to discuss. However, when I can, I promise to answer your questions to the best of my ability, and I will never lie to you.”

“Fair enough. Can we begin with what I just asked you? Why hide who I am, and that angels are real?”

“Why am I not surprised you did not let that go? Tenacity is another of those things I am going to have to learn to accept. The answer to your question is simple. It all comes down to faith. All religions are based on faith. You must accept the basic tenets of your religious beliefs without being provided with concrete evidence.”

“So, I should never expect to see News at Six footage of angels coming down from the skies to smite the wicked? Or interviews with heavenly personages describing the joys of the afterlife? No selfies of recently deceased celebrities hobnobbing with St. Peter?”

Azrael ignored his attempts at humor. “If you look around you, the evidence of God’s love is everywhere, but no. No obvious proof, Jake. Just faith. And the willingness to live an unselfish life, honoring the God of your religion, without perverting the tenets of that religion, and aimed toward making a difference—even a small one—for the betterment of others. Those are the things deemed most significant when all is said and done, and a deep and abiding faith is the foundation upon which all else is built.”

“So, offering clues or providing proof is actually cheating, then?”

“In a manner of speaking. It takes away the opportunity for the person to believe based on his or her faith alone. Does that help you understand why the note to Hunter was a bad thing?”

“I think so. Did I do him harm, then? Hurt his chance at salvation?”

“No way to be sure, yet. Life is full of temptations and choices, and free will means he can get it right, or wrong, at any point. But if it eases your mind, I would guess the woman—Willow —will always be the deciding factor in this man’s life, and her faith is strong. I do not think he will get lost again.”

 Relief swept through Jake. “Thank you for explaining. Hunter really got to me, but I see now that what I did was wrong. I’ll do my best to be careful in the future.”

Azrael regarded him for a long moment, then nodded, satisfied. “We did not begin our relationship on the best footing, Jake, and I take the blame for that, but where we go from here is up to both of us.” The angel paused, brows drawing downward. “Of course, I meant there to be more than one of you going forth, but from what you have shared with me, it would seem I now need to locate a few more suitable candidates. Until I get that sorted out, however, you are to proceed with the mission, just as I have explained.”

“But how will I know when a soul is in mortal peril?”

“How did you know with Hunter?”

“I couldn’t help knowing with him, Azrael. The man was so lost, it was impossible to miss. His eyes were filled with pain and sorrow, and every move he made hurt him. In three days of traveling with me, he never said more than a handful of words, and those only when he had to. He was focused on ending his pain by ending himself. There was no way to miss the trouble he was in.”

“Exactly. You will not miss souls in immediate jeopardy. They may not exhibit the exact signs Hunter did, but their pain should be obvious. You had a perceptive, caring nature before you crossed over. Add to that the little boost you have been given, and you should see it clearly.”

“Well, even if I get good at spotting a soul in danger, how will I know what to do? They won’t all need the same thing, will they?”

“No. Some will need only the slightest redirection. Others might require a bit more work, though within my guidelines, of course. You will have to evaluate each person, making decisions as you go. All I ask is that you do what you can. And Jake? You will not be able to save all of them. Some are too set on self-destruction to ever be swayed from their path. You will have to learn to accept that and move on. Now, dare I ask if you have any more questions?”

“I just have one more. What exactly is our relationship? Yours and mine?”

“I mean for us to be a team, sharing the same goals. Working together to benefit mankind, with mutual respect, understanding, and support. We would, as you might say, have each other’s backs.”

“So, no structural hierarchy involved?”

“Oh, I did not mean to imply that. Sorry, Jake, but you had it right from the start. I am, indeed, the boss. Just do not call me that.”

And with a wicked grin that looked surprisingly at home on his face, Azrael climbed out of the truck, walked around to the driver’s door, and motioned for Jake to join him. They stood contemplating each other in the darkness, then the angel placed a hand on each of Jake’s shoulders, closed his eyes, and bowed his head. Jake closed his eyes, as well, and waited. In a reverent voice, Azrael delivered a quiet benediction, and when he raised his head again, he graced Jake with a smile of astonishing purity.

His immense, snow-white wings snapped open, and Azrael rose into the air, a being of such perfect and divine beauty, it almost hurt to look upon him. Jake swore on the spot he would do whatever he was asked—forever, if need be—to earn the angel’s respect. He was never going to disappoint Azrael again.

He stood watching the dark sky long after the angel had disappeared, then climbed back into his truck and turned the key. The big engine rumbled to life, and he smiled at the sound.

With a final glance out the window, Jake gave a nod toward the heavens. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

He pulled out of the truck stop and onto the highway once more—and this time, he was ready for the job ahead.


There you have today’s offering.
Stay tuned for Chapter 4 tomorrow!

THE EMISSARY

 

 

#Sharing – #Serial – #TheEmissary1 – #Chapter2

Chapter 2
“Don’t Fear the Reaper”
Blue Oyster Cult
~~~

A Still-Dark, Still-Deserted Truck Stop,
Halfway Between Here and There,
But Nearly an Hour Later.

 “SO, WHAT YOU’RE saying then,” Jake said, “is this is a whole new concept?”

The angel nodded. “Exactly.”

“And that makes me, what? A guinea pig for your experimental pleasure?”

“A potential emissary. For the benefit of mankind.”

“Have there ever been any other emissaries—potential or not—set up to benefit mankind?”

“No.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured. Guinea pig.”

Azrael scrubbed his hand across his face in a frustrated gesture so fundamentally human, Jake couldn’t help but smile. His curiosity got the best of him. “Am I allowed to ask how long you’ve been an angel?”

“Ages. Eons. Forever. Long, and long, and long.”

A profound weariness in the angel’s voice left Jake ashamed of his own petty behavior.  He toned down the sarcasm and snark. “Has it always been this difficult?”

Azrael stared off into the night, lost for a few moments in thoughts and memories Jake couldn’t even imagine. He spoke again, his voice soft. Distant. “It has always been difficult, but it used to be straightforward. Good or evil. Right or wrong. Not this total chaos. Or so much misery and suffering and obtuse, misguided conviction that there is only one right path. Death and destruction was not quite on such a massive scale, either, with senseless violence growing day by day.”

He shuddered and swung his head back toward Jake, his blue eyes dark with sorrow. “Do you have any idea how many more people there are today, compared to before? Let me enlighten you. Countless numbers. Countless! Yet, the population of angels has not increased one iota.”

“What? How can that be? Don’t people who go to Heaven become angels?”

Azrael glared. “Certainly not!” He shook his head at Jake’s astonished expression. “How can you have been such a good man and yet not know this? Do they not teach these things in your houses of worship anymore? Did you really picture Heaven filled with harp-playing angels perched on every cloud, watching over those left behind?”

Jake’s face burned. “I’ve always believed in something bigger than myself, but I hadn’t given a great deal of thought to exactly how it all worked. I wasn’t imagining quite the cozy picture you just described, but I’m sure you’ll be delighted to fill me in on how it actually is. And please do use every opportunity you can to remind me of just how insignificant and stupid I really am.”

“No. I am not allowed to fill you in, as you put it. Certainly not about what the afterlife entails. In other words, while I will assess your significance and intelligence as I see fit, I will not tell you what Heaven is like. And do not ask me about any loved one who has passed on, either.”

“Classified, I suppose?”

“You could call it that. What I can tell you is that Heaven is not filled with angels. We are as we have always been—a finite number, each of us created for a specific purpose—and we have never, ever been human.”

“Oh. So, my mother isn’t watching over me?”

“I did not say that. I said she is not an angel. I will not tell you where she is, what she is doing, or how she is doing it. Do not bother asking. But let me make this very clear, Jake. Whatever she is doing, she is not doing it as an angel. And do not look so miserable. She is probably better off. Being an angel is hard work at the best of times. Today, it is . . . well, that is why we are having this conversation in the first place.”

Neither of them said anything for several long minutes, then Jake sighed. “I have a lot to learn, don’t I?”

“If you are to succeed at this, yes, you do. But I fail to understand why this is all so confusing to you. You seem extremely ill-prepared and lacking in the basic concepts we are dealing with. Did not Simiel and Raguel explain all of this at your first meeting? Or at orientation? You were supposed to be fully instructed in why we want and need emissaries in the first place, and how we will decide who is eligible to become one. Plus, it appears you do not understand what you will have to do to meet our requirements. The rules, in other words. Were you asleep during the whole thing?”

“Asleep? You’re joking, right?”

The cold stare Azrael leveled in his direction let Jake know just how unlikely it was that Azrael ever joked about anything. His voice crackled with frost. “Elaborate.”

Jake scratched his head. He could tell the angel that the so-called orientation session had been roughly akin to getting tossed into a tank with a couple of hungry sharks while bleeding from open wounds, but maybe he should cut back on the insults. He decided to go with a more accurate explanation of how it had all gone down. That was plenty bad enough by itself.

“Look, I get that the intentions were good, okay? But that pair of guys assigned to the job were so busy arguing between themselves over how stupid the whole idea was, and how insulted they were at being put in charge of something so far beneath them, they never really explained anything to us at all.”

“Is that so?” Frostier still.

“Pretty much. And they weren’t quiet about it. In fact, they screamed and ranted, and threw things around.”

“Threw things? Like?”

“Well, like lightning bolts. And a couple of yard-long icicle spears. They seemed pretty focused on that, and not so much so on the four, terrified people huddled in the corner. We had all we could handle just trying to keep from being caught in the crossfire.”

Azrael’s mouth tightened. “I see. Did they stop screaming long enough to explain anything to you at all?”

“Well, the dark one with the yellow eyes was too busy shouting that the end was probably coming, and everyone would, and should, die.”

“That would be Simiel. He is often described as the angel of death, a role he seems to relish a bit too much at times. He has his functions, but perhaps he was not the best choice for this task. What about Raguel? I expected him to have a balancing effect on Simuel.”

“He did start by trying to calm things down, explaining to Mr. Prepare-to-Die that he wasn’t giving this a fair chance.”

“Yes, that sounds right. He is the angel of justice, after all, at least in most doctrines. His main job is to keep everyone in check, even fallen angels and demons. It should have worked.”

“It did for about five minutes. After that, he was too busy trying to keep the other one from frying us with the lightning, or putting out all the fires that kept popping up everywhere. Honestly, whoever it was who thought those two could teach us anything—”

“That would be me.”

“—was brilliant.”

Azrael’s eyebrows shot toward Heaven, and the left corner of his mouth lifted. “Nice try.”

Jake’s mouth dropped open. “Wait. Are you smiling?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are. You smiled. A bit.”

“I do not . . . do smiles.”

“Too bad. It wouldn’t hurt now and then, you know. Sometimes people are easier to work with if they aren’t cowering in stark terror, worried about all the smiting and cleaving.”

Now the right corner of Azrael’s mouth gave a twitch, like it was thinking about curving upward, too. “I will take that under advisement. Are the others as confused as you?”

“I haven’t seen them since that day. I’m not sure if they’re still, uh, in the program.”

Azrael heaved a long sigh. “That is unfortunate. They were good choices.” After a moment or two of silence, he spoke again. “It would seem I owe you an apology. I should have known better than to turn this over to anyone else. The whole thing was my idea, after all, and getting approval to try it out was not easy. However, I was called away to take care of an on-going emergency on another continent, and I trusted Simiel and Raguel to put aside their differences long enough to handle this for me. That might have been a miscalculation. You know, we have an old saying in Heaven. ‘If you want something done right, do it yourself.’ I am sorry I was not there for you.”

“Funny. My dad had that same old saying. Usually turns out to be true. But it’s not too late to fix this, is it? I mean, I felt great about helping the people I met, especially Hunter. Even if I, um, fudged the rules a bit. It was wonderful to see him later, doing so well. What I’m trying to say is, if you still want me after the way I behaved earlier, I wouldn’t mind starting over.”

“No?”

“No. It would be nice to make a difference, even one person at a time. Can’t you explain to me what it is you expect? I picked up a few things, in between lightning bolts. I know the free will thing is non-negotiable. We can’t interfere with that. And I know I have some minor powers at my disposal, but I have to be careful when and where I use them. What else do I need to know? Surely you can give me the basics? You wouldn’t by any chance have a handbook or anything, would you?”

He stopped rattling on. Azrael contemplated him with a completely different expression on his face. The angel looked surprisingly benevolent and gentle, the way angels do in stained glass windows and marble sculptures. He looked . . . holy.

For the first time since Jake awakened in that purple-gray room, things finally made sense to him. Everything that had happened over the last few months was real. It was all real. Blunders or not, he worked for the angels, now.

No, he worked for Azrael, and it felt right. In fact, it felt downright good.


There you have today’s offering.
Stay tuned for Chapter 3 tomorrow!

THE EMISSARY 1

#Sharing – #Serial – #TheEmissary1 – #Chapter1

Chapter 1
“Angel Eyes”
The Jeff Healey Band
~~~

A Dark, Deserted Truck Stop,
Halfway Between Here and There,
Wondering What Just Happened. 

AZRAEL’S EYES FLAMED a furious blue. In one blink, he disappeared from the cab’s passenger seat. In a split second, he reappeared by the driver’s door, ripped it right off the truck, and flung it to the pavement. Before Jake could get his mind around that little trick, Azrael snatched him out of his seat, and hurled him across the empty parking lot with so much force, he might well have continued traveling a half mile or more, had it not been for slamming into the trunk of an enormous oak. Hard.

This was a learning experience of the eye-opening kind, except for the fact that his eyes were squeezed tight in response to fear, shock, and excruciating, back-meeting-tree-trunk pain. Perhaps he couldn’t be killed outright—he was a bit cloudy on that issue, in spite of earlier reassurances—but clearly, breathtaking agony was still on the table.

He’d had no idea Azrael possessed that kind of power. Yeah, he knew the angel was very old—possibly an archangel—but it seemed they were careful not to reveal too much about themselves, certainly not to those being recruited to help them on a more or less trial basis. The ferocious strength Azrael had just displayed left Jake stunned.

Still groaning, he slumped to the ground at the base of the tree, desperate to catch his breath. He blinked away the red haze clouding his vision, only to wish he hadn’t. Azrael loomed larger and more ominous with each long stride in his direction. The angel had somehow acquired a colossal, glowing sword, which he brandished overhead, and his heretofore pale blond hair floated this way and that around his face, blindingly bright—and looking far too much like flames for comfort.

With a thunderous roar that shook the very ground beneath them, Azrael’s voice shattered the silent darkness. “You quit? You quit? You cannot quit, you ingrate! You have been accepted into a cadre of potential emissaries. There is no such thing as quitting!”

Apparently, angels of Azrael’s rank came with built-in loudspeakers featuring a volume capacity rock stars would weep to possess. Jake clapped his hands over his ears, praying he wouldn’t feel blood seeping between his fingers.

It was all he could do not to curl into a fetal position, arms crossed over his head, to await the smiting that was surely coming next. Not that he was precisely certain what-all smiting might entail, but it was bound to be a painful way to die. Again.

~~~

JAKE’S FIRST DEATH—which he had really hoped would be his last—hadn’t been easy.  Maybe no death ever was, but drowning had been a cold, terrifying experience. At least he’d had the satisfaction of knowing the woman he’d jumped in to save had been pulled from his arms and into a boat, even as he slipped below the surface and drifted down to the silty river bottom. The last thought passing through his mind as his world went black around him was his fervent hope she wouldn’t waste a single day he’d bought her.

The next time Jake had opened his eyes, he’d discovered to his utter astonishment that he hadn’t died at all. At least, that’s what he’d thought at first. Instead, he rested on a warm, comfortable, and gloriously dry bed in the hushed stillness of a room painted the soft purple-gray of an early evening sky. Looking back on it afterward, he wondered if perhaps it had actually been the sky he’d seen around him, and not walls at all. But at that moment, he’d assumed he was in a hospital room, having been rescued from the dark depths of the murky river just in the nick of time.

If only.

~~~

Cowering in Terror,
At That Still-Dark, Still-Deserted Truck Stop,
Halfway Between Here and There.

AZRAEL STOPPED ADVANCING. Jake squinted against the brilliant white glare that surrounded the angel towering over him.

“Do you have to be all bright like that in order to kill me?”

Cocking his head to the side, Azrael bellowed, “What?”

“It’s like staring into the sun. Go ahead and cleave, if you want to, but can’t you do it without first making me blind as well as deaf?”

Azrael grimaced. “Better?” He’d turned the volume down a hundred decibels or so, and the fiery aura surrounding him faded.

Jake nodded. “Okay. Cleave away.”

“You are not making an ounce of sense. Why do you keep going on about cleaving?”

“Off the top of my head, I’d say it’s because that big sword you’re swinging around looks like it was designed for cleaving all over the place.”

Azrael stared at the sword in his hand as though he’d never seen it before, and couldn’t imagine why he was holding it. In a nanosecond, it whooshed out of sight, faster than Luke Skywalker’s light saber.

To Jake’s amazement, Azrael flushed flamingo pink. His golden curls fell back into place around his face, and his size returned to something less monolithic in nature. For a moment, the angel looked as though he might even apologize, but he appeared to think better of it. Instead, he drew himself up straight, squared his shoulders, and cleared his throat.

“I am not going to cleave you in twain, Jake, but do not try my patience again. Perhaps you and I need to have a serious discussion. We do not seem to be . . . on the same page, I believe you would say.”

“A discussion? Is that angelspeak for telling me I can’t quit?” Jake tried to stand, but gasped as his back refused to follow through on that idea.

Azrael scowled. “Emissary in training or not, you are still too fragile. This will have to be corrected.” He waved a hand in Jake’s general direction, and the pain disappeared at once.

Jake scrambled to his feet. He preferred to face Azrael eye to eye, even though it didn’t increase his chances of being able to defend himself from the angel at all. The few bits of power he’d been given would be all but useless against that kind of strength, but standing still felt better than cowering on the ground at the feet of an infuriated behemoth.

“Is the pain gone?” For a fleeting moment, Azrael looked genuinely concerned.

“Mostly. What now?”

“Now we talk. I have put a Pass By compulsion on the entrance to this place, but it would still be more comfortable and quiet in your truck.”

Jake turned to follow Azrael back to the semi, then froze in his tracks. “What the—? You found time between all the thundering, and glowing, and . . . and . . . sword-waving to put the door back on?”

“Nonsense. I was focused on you. The door took care of itself.”

“Huh? What’s that mean?”

“It means your truck heals almost as fast as you do.”

“I heal fast? Since when?”

Azrael’s expression flip-flopped between anger and frustration, finally compromising on irritated resignation. He stalked across the parking lot, and Jake trailed behind, painfully aware he’d just had a narrow escape. Maybe more than one.

A hardheaded temperament and big mouth had gotten Jake in trouble throughout much of his life, and it looked like it would still be a problem in the afterlife, as well. He’d have to work on that—assuming Azrael did not accept his angry resignation.

“What exactly does a ‘Pass By compulsion’ do, if that’s not forbidden knowledge?”

“Knowing what one does is not forbidden. Performing one at your current status level is. Therefore, all I will tell you is that as long as you and I are here, drivers will not notice the exit road and will pass by.”

“Hence, the name.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Jake shook his head. For a liaison angel, Azrael didn’t seem to understand humans all that well, especially their senses of humor, but antagonizing him wasn’t smart. It might be time to shut up, and let the big guy speak his piece. And he would. As soon as he sorted out one or two more things.

“It’s just that it sounds a lot like a spell, you know. The kind a witch or a wizard would use.”

Even without the towering size and flaming hair, the expression on Azrael’s face halted Jake in his tracks. Those blue eyes appeared frosty before, but now they morphed into something akin to shards of turquoise ice. For the first time, Jake truly understood that the expression, “if looks could kill” was not merely theoretical. Maybe he’d finally gone too far.

He took a step backward, and held up his hands in what he sincerely hoped was a placating gesture. “Sorry. No offense. I just never thought about all the things an angel of your, um—caliber—might be able to do. Is there no limit to your power?”

“No.”

“No? Just, no?”

“No, there is no limit to my power. It comes directly from on high. You would do well to remember that, Jake. And to keep in mind that while my power is unlimited, my patience is not. Get in the truck.”


There you have today’s offering.
Stay tuned for Chapter 2 tomorrow!

THE EMISSARY

 

#Sharing – #Serial – #TheEmissary 1 – #Prologue

Decided it might be fun to share some of my work as a “serial” here on TWS. I’m going to start with The Emissary 1, and I plan to post a chapter a day for your reading pleasure. Here’s the Prologue. (There are twelve chapters to follow, plus the Epilogue.) Hope you’ll enjoy it!



December 12, 2013
“Take This Job and Shove It”
Johnny Paycheck
~~~

Midnight, December 12, 2013,
Tooling Down a Lonely Highway,
Somewhere Between Here and There.

“WHAT AM I going to do with you, Jake?”

Jake snapped his head to the right, gasped at the sight of an angel in the passenger seat, then jerked forward again just in time to prevent his semi from running off the highway. “What the hell! Are you trying to kill us both?”

“Language, please. And do you really think either of us could be killed so easily?”

Instead of a reply, Jake fumed in silence, glaring through the rain-streaked windshield as the last of the daylight disappeared. He thought about not answering at all but figured that would only make things worse. “I’m guessing you must be Azrael. Nice of you to drop in for a surprise visit and all, but a bit of advance notice next time might help me avoid a fatal collision. I don’t think killing innocent humans is part of my job description.”

“Ah. Sarcasm. I had forgotten how amusing it can be. But advance warning would eliminate the element of surprise, now wouldn’t it?”

“Whatever you say, Boss.”

Azrael rumbled low in his throat. “Do not call me Boss.”

Jake felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. “Do you have to growl at me like that?”

“I think you heard me. I am not fond of that type of slang.”

“If I stop calling you ‘Boss,’ will you stop sneaking up on me and growling that way? It doesn’t sound very angelic. Besides, it’s creepy.”

“I will do as I wish. And this is not about me. It is about you.”

“Why? What have I done?”

“Suffice it to say, you have done plenty, as you perfectly well know. Or do you want me to read from the list? I can go all the way back to your first day, if you like.”

“My first day was only a few months ago, so how long can the list be? And by the way, your on-the-job training for new hires is sadly lacking, in my opinion.”

“No one asked your opinion, but since you are pleading ignorance, let us start with the most serious transgression, shall we? How about Gabe Angelino?”

Jake winced. He thought he’d gotten away with that one, but he should have known better. These people—and he used the term loosely—apparently didn’t miss much. And for Azrael, himself, to show up? Probably not good.

The angel continued. “Really, Jake? Could you have been any more obvious? They are not supposed to know who you represent, you understand.”

“Sorry. He tried so hard to ignore me, I thought I might have to up my nudges to catch his attention. But he stayed with me of his own free will, until we were close enough that I was pretty sure he’d walk the last mile or so, himself. That’s the main thing, right? It’s not like I gave him any clues while we were driving.”

“No. You left him a note, instead, and used it to compel his memory of you. He would have forgotten you completely had you managed to refrain from doing that.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to be completely forgotten.”

“I am sure you did not, but it is not about what you want, regardless of whether it feels good to find out you have made a difference. I am also sure you enjoyed being contacted.”

“I didn’t tell either of them how to reach me.”

“No, but once the man remembered you—”

“Hunter. His name is Hunter.”

Azrael huffed out a sharp breath. “Yes, I am aware of that, but I would rather not think of him in those terms.”

“What terms? Human ones?”

“It is always better not to keep them in your mind after your work is done. Now, as I was saying, once he remembered you, and told the woman—”

“Willow,” Jake muttered.

“The woman. Once he told the woman who you were, she put out a direct call to you. And that, as you well know, is not supposed to happen. Your behavior was in violation of the rules.”

“She emailed me, that’s all. And I didn’t think emailing a fake person, employed by a fake company, would be in a list of prohibited actions.”

“Why do you persist in being so difficult? You know the method matters not. It makes no difference if you are called via cell phone, email, or a tormented scream from deep within the abyss. You represent us. If called, you must answer. You have no choice. Therefore, you are not allowed to give them a way to reach you. Surely this was stressed repeatedly when you were given this job, and doing so is frowned upon by, shall we say, upper management. So. Why did you leave him a transparent clue like that, and a ‘nudge,’ as you put it, to remember your time together? Give me something, Jake. I would rather not lose you this early on.”

Jake lifted his foot from the accelerator and angled the semi off the highway and into a deserted truck stop. He parked, then faced Azrael, noting more concern than he’d expected in his companion’s arctic blue eyes. The urge to fight died.

“I’m not sure why. I did what I could for him, but he was far more desperate than any of my other riders had been. I was afraid he needed a lot more. So, I left him a fake name with a little push to spur his memory, in case he needed me again. What good is it to have this power if I can’t ever put it to use?”

Azrael groaned. “And I am the one who argued that you had so much potential.” He rubbed his pale hand over his face, then took a deep breath and gave it another go.

“Once again, you do understand that you broke the rules, right? They are not supposed to remember you, find you, or contact you. And you are absolutely, positively forbidden to contact them, too, in any way, shape, or form. You showed up on their doorstep, Jake. You had tea with them! What were you thinking?”

“Technically, I only had tea with Hunter. Willow stayed inside. And I was thinking that saving this gentle, decent person from harming himself was more important than saving my job.”

“Or your own soul?”

Jake’s mouth tightened. “So, if I break a heavenly, though still bureaucratic, rule to be sure a good man is safe, I flunk your tests, and my mortal soul is in danger? What is this? Go directly to Hell? Do not pass Go? Do not collect $200?”

Azrael buried his face in his hands.

Jake had no idea what was about to happen next, but he decided it really didn’t matter.

“If that’s the way it is, then I don’t want this job. I don’t know how to turn my back on people that way. I can’t do it.”

“What?” Azrael’s head jerked back up, and he stared at Jake, mouth agape. “What are you saying?”

“Simple. I quit.”


There you have today’s offering.
Stay tuned for Chapter 1 tomorrow!

THE EMISSARY 1

#HappySt.Patrick’sDay – #Turning(Gasp!)80 – #Celebrating!

 

Here’s wishing every one of you a wonderful St. Patrick’s Day and a big ol’ pot of gold awaiting you! Okay, maybe only one of those wishes will come true, but it’s heartfelt. While I don’t live where I’m likely to see a great St. Patrick’s Day parade like I did years ago while visiting Pittsburgh, I still celebrate. Not only do I enjoy all the shamrocks and the wearin’ o’ the green … but …  IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!

I wouldn’t normally make such a big deal out of that last part, except that …gulp! … I’ll be 80 years old! Holy Moly! How did that happen??? Why, it seems like only yesterday I was a Sweet Young Thang, enjoying the carefree life of parties and dating and just having fun in general. Okay … I lied about the “seeming only yesterday” bit. It seems WAAAAY longer ago than that! But it’s still a mystery how I ended up here. A mystery I’m very grateful for, I might add. Sadly, my parents and my younger brother have all been gone a long time, yet I’m still here. Makes me wonder why, sometimes. Is there something special I’m still supposed to accomplish? Some reason I’m still here in relatively good shape? (For my ancient age, that is.) 

I don’t know the answer to that question, but in the end, it doesn’t matter if I know the reason or not. What matters is that I’m blessed to still be around, doing the things I enjoy most, with the people I love. I think my best bet is to just accept that fact, be grateful for the gift of making it this far, and get on with enjoying every minute of life I still have in front of me. And just so you know, I count all of my internet friends as one of my biggest blessings. Love you ALL, and hope your St. Paddy’s Day will be as much fun as mine, even if you don’t have a green birthday cake FILLED with candles awaiting you!


HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!

#ThorsDaySmile – #Humor – #PlanetOfTheAppsPart1

Thor has been complaining that there haven’t been any fun animal memes in a long time, and you know I hate to disappoint the God of Thunder. Therefore, today’s post is all about rectifying that situation. This one is definitely about animals. Big, furry animals. Hope you enjoy it! 😀 ❤


Planet of the Apps













And that’s it for The Planet of the Apps Part 1
Hope you enjoyed it!

#GuestDayTuesday – Featuring #MaeClair – #NewRelease – #TheKeepingPlace

I’m SO happy to have Mae Clair, one of my best online friends,  visiting us today, and I know you’re going to enjoy learning all about her latest book, so without further ado, here she is: Take it away, Mae!


Hi, Marcia! Thank you so much for hosting me on your blog today. I’m delighted to be here, sharing my upcoming release The Keeping Place, a dual timeline mystery which is now available for pre-order!  Most readers know me as someone who loves weaving urban legends and threads of the supernatural into my stories. The Keeping Place took an entirely different turn.

Well… there is a small thread that does involve an old town legend and a ghost, but nothing that takes center stage as in my other books. This one is about relationships, and what happens to an estranged mother/daughter when the remains of the youngest daughter are discovered ten years after she disappeared. It’s more of a “quiet” mystery than I usually write.

In its heyday, Hornwood was the launching point for the Boone Rail Line which served passengers in the early 1900s.The line has long since been abandoned, but the original rail shack still stands. It’s here where the daughter of the town founder died after being cast out by her father.

During my “past” timeline of 2013, the shack has become a local teen hangout and a dumping ground. A huge tree known as “the Hornwood Oak” dominates the location. In this excerpt, twelve-year-old Janie Seabrooke discusses the rail shack with a woman who works at the restaurant her mother owns.

As you’ll discover in the excerpt, Janie’s mom has her own unique backstory.

 

EXCERPT:

Phyllis’s smile was her best feature—wide and toothpaste white. “So, what are you doing today? It’s gorgeous outside.”

“Going for a bike ride.” Janie closed her notebook. The restaurant wasn’t busy, the lunch crowd over, dinner still hours away. Sometimes when it was like this, mostly empty, she’d sit and study the old photos on the wall, wondering what life would have been like if her mom had become an A-list Hollywood star. Would they live in a mansion and have a long black limo with tinted windows? Would she go to a private school, bodyguards trailing her every move?

Life would be different, with no time for lists or her secret keeping place where she squirrelled away castoff trinkets like coveted pirate booty. Other girls giggled over boys and wanted to experiment with makeup, but she was more interested in the way a rock glinted when the sun washed over it, or the dance of a bat when it swept the night sky for bugs.

Mom said it was because she’d been in the hospital for a long time when she was a baby, and that made her look at things differently. Sometimes kids in school called her strange or backward, but Janie knew her brain just fired on odd cylinders.

Phyllis slid into the seat across from her. “I remember the days when I could bike from the Hornwood Oak to Kocher’s Market without getting winded.” Heavy creases at the corners of her eyes, combined with excess weight she laughingly called jelly rolls, told Janie those days were far behind.

“I always heard you shouldn’t go to the Hornwood Oak.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Janie fiddled with her pen. “But you did.”

“That was a long time ago, when I was a kid.”

“Weren’t you afraid of Lettie Boone’s ghost?”

“That’s just an old legend. I was more afraid of snakes slithering from weeds in the rail beds.” Phyllis laughed. “My friends and I would tell ghost stories under that big oak tree. Every now and then, we’d invite someone new and hold a snipe hunt.”

“What’s that?”

“A bit of old foolishness. Nothing anyone your age would be interested in today.”

“Did Mom go?” Janie tucked her notebook along with the envelope into her backpack. “To the Hornwood Oak?”

“Sometimes. I think she’d meet your father there, but that was before Rod Barrett convinced her she could make it in Hollywood.” A trace of vinegar soured Phyllis’s voice.

“Mom said he wasn’t a bad agent.”

“He wasn’t the best, either, or your mom would still be making movies.” Phyllis shook her head. “Listen to me jabber. You just forget everything I said.” With a grunt of effort, she shoved to her feet. “I need to get back to work, and you should go enjoy your bike ride. It’s refreshing to see you’re not glued to your phone or some other device like most kids your age.”

Janie smiled. “Mom calls me an old soul.”

“She’s right about that.” Phyllis turned away then shifted back with a raised eyebrow. “One more thing—be sure to stay away from the Hornwood Oak. That old shack out there is held together with spit.”


As in most dual timeline mysteries, The Keeping Place delivers a mystery in the present as well as the past. I hope the blurb will tempt you further:

Even if it means killing again.



Thanks again for hosting me today, Marcia. I appreciate the opportunity to share The Keeping Place with your readers. I’ve held onto this novel for two years, uncertain how I wanted to publish it. As an author, I naturally like every book I’ve written, but The Keeping Place is my personal favorite—perhaps because it’s so different in tone from my other mysteries.

I still utilize dual timelines, but rather than having centuries between them, my timelines are separated by a mere ten years. It’s my sincere hope readers will enjoy the story!


PURCHASE LINK

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#Garden – #Roses – #Pinata – #KeepSmiling!

Just a quick post to share something beautiful that greeted me today when I walked into our backyard. We have been very, very slow in recreating the garden we had before Hurricane Irma smashed everything (including the roof of our house). BUT, the good news is, we ARE making progress. 

After yesterday’s discomfort at the dermatologist’s office, as they froze all sorts of pre-cancers off my face and left me with eyes so swollen, I can hardly see, I ambled outdoors this morning, hoping to cheer up a bit, and discovered that my newest rose, Pinata, is starting to bloom. That was a couple of hours ago, and I’m still smiling!

Thought I’d pass a picture along. Something this bright and gorgeous should be shared far and wide, right? So … here it is, along with my best wishes for each of you to have a wonderful rest of your day and week!


And remember … keep smiling.
It makes people wonder what you’re up to!