kelticangel

Sarah crossed the street quickly through the angry bunches of people, her left hand shoved deep into her pocket and her head ducked low. The shouts were directed at another woman, poor soul. She was scurrying across the street as fast as her feet would carry her, trying to hide the metallic glint of the moon reflecting from her skin with the turned up collar of her trenchcoat. As she finally reached the edge of the park, the toe of her worn shoe caught on the curb. The woman tripped and fell, a moan of despair escaping her lips. For fleeting seconds her eyes locked with Sarah's, pleading, then she was lost in a slough of bodies. Pulling her

As she poured herself a cup of Earl Grey, the steam from the hot tea teased at the fingers of her left hand and condensed into little droplets. She barely felt the heat. The metallic surface of her cyborg hand registered only the slight pressure and humidity of the water beads. With absent familiarity Sarah wiped her hands on a nearby dish-towel, grabbed her mug of tea, and settled herself down in a gaudy looking armchair with one of her books. Before half an hour had passed, Sarah's eyes were already beginning to droop. Her focus began to slide, her mouth began to yawn, and her hand moved to put down the heavy volume on her lap. Finally she

"How was class today?" asked Uncle Atticus conversationally. "Good. About the same as usual, actually." Uncle Atticus smiled with a sort of wry sympathy. 'Usual' meant controversy and ridicule as a cyborg sympathizer. "I just wanted you to know that Jonathan Hauke is in town tonight, and will be speaking at the high school at 7:30." Sarah was now fully awake, "Dr. Hauke is here? When did he get in? Who knows? Who's been set up for security?" Uncle Atticus grinned. "He got in last night, late, and is staying at the Finley's basement. I've been passing the word around all day, I think we're safe from anyone important knowing. But, as far

Wearied feet press onward, One step               At                   A time The shouldered burden slips, A fearful hand grasps - Must Not Fail Vision obscured By mud, and blood, and sweat And the burden across my shoulders, Riveting my eyes as blinders. Wearied mind presses onward, One day            At                A time It threatens to falter, A prayerful voice calls - Must Stay Strong Burden obscures My trust, my hope, my love Yet I feel his hand in mine, Leading me on to the end. And still... Still Your breath is in us - Lending us strength Still Your light is our pathway - Chaining us in faith Still Yo